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POEMS 



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WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



EDITED, WITH MEMOIR, 

WILLIAM H. VENABLE, 

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" The Poet could not sing the Heroic Warrior, unless he himself were 
at least a Heroic "vVurrior too. I fancy there is in him the Politician, 
the Thinker, Legislator, Philosopher; — in one or the other degree he 
could have been, he is all these."— 2%omas Carlyle. 




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CINCINNATI: 
Thk Robert Clarke Company. 



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Copyright, 1894, 
By The Robert Clarke Company. 



IS DEDICATED TO THE 
MEMORY OF A BELOVED SISTER, 

MRS. ELIZABETH HAINES BROADWELL, 

With the hope that In its accomplishment 
her cherished wish has been fulfilled. 

J. R. F. 



CONTENTS. 



Wm. Haines Lytle; Memoir, . . . i 

POEMS. 

Antony and Cleopatra, 6i 

Popocatapetl, . . 64 

Brigand's Song, 67 

Sailing on the Sea, 70 

Anacreontic, 72 

Jacqueline, 74 

A Fragment, 76 

Macdonald's Drummer, 77 

The Volunteers, 81 

A Midsummer-Day's Dream, . . . .84 

Lines to Miss , 86' 

Lines in an Album, ....... 88 

The Sweet May Moon, ... .89 

In Camp, ........ 90 

'T is Not the Time, 91 

When the Long Shadows, 93 

The Merry Days of Eld, 95 

The Haunted River, 99 

Faded Flowers, 100 

(V) 



VI CONTENTS. 

Two Years Ago, loi 

A Valentine, 103 

Love and Time, 104 

Lines to Miss E , 105 

A Serenade, 107 

Song of the Lightning, ..... 108 

Omens, . . . . , . .111 

Mj Thirty -sixth Birthday, 113 

To My Sisters, 115 

'Tis Only Once We Love, . . . .117 

The Siege of Chapultepec, 119 

The Soldier's Dream, 121 

The Farmer, 124 

Hunting Song, * 126 

Song of the Ragged Attorney, . . . .128 
The' Farewell, 131 

General Lytle's Last Speech, . . * . 133 

Company K. A Poem, 144 

Last Marching Order, 147 

Last Marching Order to Brigade m fac- simile, 148-9 



WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



In the Appendix to his Geography and History 
of the Western States, published in Cincinnati in 
1828, Timothy FHnt gives a personal narrative 
from the pen of General Lytle, whom he describes 
as "a distinguished and respectable citizen of the 
State of Ohio, who has been in that country from 
the heginningy and who probably has seen as much 
of its progress as any other man in it." 

The narrative, fresh and suggestive in style, re- 
plete with interest, relates how its writer, a lad 
nine years old, came with his father, in 1779, from 
Pennsylvania to the West, descending the Ohio, 
in the spring of 1780, in one of sixty-three large 
arks, or Kentucky boats, some of which were 
occupied by families, others by young men in- 
tending to explore the country. * ' The number of 
fighting men on board," says Lytle, ''was nearly 
a thousand." "My father," he continues, ''had 



2 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLfi. 

been a practiced soldier in the former wars of the 
country, and had been stationed, as such, three 
years at Pittsburgh. He was, of course, versed 
in the modes, requisites and stratagems of Indian 
warfare." 

On the 1 2th of April the fleet halted at the 
mouth of the Licking, and discovered an Indian 
encampment on the Ohio shore opposite. A 
considerable force crossed the river and the In- 
dians fled. The boy Lytle was among the sol- 
diers on this occasion. Fifty-one years later 
General Lytle died in his own house which was 
built near this scene of his youthful venture 
against the Indians. 

The two Lytles, father and son, both named 
William, are distinguished from each other in our 
early histories by their military tides, the elder 
holding the rank of colonel, the younger that of 
general. The family stock is of Irish origin. 
Colonel William Lytle was commissioned captain 
by Governor Morris, of Pennsylvania, in the year 
1750, and he served in the old French and Indian 
War. 

General William Lytle, like his father, became 
a famous Indian fighter and pioneer. At the age 



ROBERT TODD LYTLE. 6 

of fifteen he was put in command of a war party 
under the direction of the adventurous Daniel 
Boone. In the war of 1812, he was major-gen- 
eral of Ohio militia, and in 1828, President An- 
drew Jackson appointed him surveyor-general of 
the public lands of Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan. 
He was founder of Lytletown, now Williamsburg, 
Clermont county, Ohio, from which village he 
removed to Cincinnati, where he died in 1831. 

General Robert Todd Lytle, third son of Gen- 
eral William Lytle, was born in Williamsburg, in 
1804. Coming to Cincinnati with his father's 
family in 181 o, he was educated in the old Cin- 
cinnati College, and then studied and practiced 
law. After serving a term in the Ohio Legisla- 
ture, he was elected, in 1834, to a seat in the 
National Congress. The next public office he 
filled was that of surveyor-general, to which he 
was appointed, as his father had been, by Jack- 
son. Once more he was chosen Representative 
in the Ohio Legislature ; and, later, was commis- 
sioned major-general of the Ohio militia, a rank 
held by his father before him, and after by his 
illustrious son. 

Robert T. Lytle was a person of fine presence. 



4 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

a courteous gentleman, an accomplished scholar. 
His abihty in conversation, and as an orator at 
the bar and on the stump, was so marked as to 
win him universal admiration. In the democratic 
familiarity of political fellowship, his constituents 
delighted to call him '' Orator Bob," just as Cor- 
win's followers showed affectionate loyalty by 
huzzaing for " Old Tom." 

On November 30, 1825, Robert Lytle married 
Miss Elizabeth Haines, of New Jersey, a lady of 
rare culture and beauty. Their children were 
one son, William Haines Lytle, the subject of this 
memoir, and two daughters, Josephine R. and 
Elizabeth Haines Lytle. Robert T. Lytle died 
in New Orleans, in 1839, aged only thirty-five, 
and his wife survived him but two years. 

On the east side of Lawrence street, midway 
between Third and Fourth, Cincinnati, stands a 
spacious old mansion surrounded by a broad 
lawn and shaded by trees. This is the Lytle 
residence, built by General William Lytle in 
1 8 10, and now occupied by his grand-daughter, 
Mrs. Josephine R. Foster. It was the first brick 
residence of its grade erected in the city. When 
Andrew Jackson made his only visit to Cincin- 



THE LYTLE MANSION. 5 

nati, he was General Lytle's guest, and held a 
levee, or '' Old Hickory " reception, in the south 
parlor of this mansion. 

Under its hopitable roof, the Lytle house has 
welcomed many noted visitors — statesmen, mili- 
tary officers, journalists, and foreign travelers. 
Always have its doors been open to such as 
sought or had won distinction in any department 
of art, science, or literature. Among these were 
Powers, the sculptor, Mitchel, the astronomer, 
Read and Fosdick, the poets. The book-shelves, 
cabinets, and walls are rich in family mementoes 
of four or five generations — autographs, official 
commissions, portraits, silhouettes, souvenirs of 
military interest and of patriotic devotion. 

In this house, the home of his father and of his 
grandfather, was born William Haines Lytle, on 
November 2, 1826. Here, under the wise 
guidance of his father and the gentle care of his 
mother, he received the strong mental and moral 
impulses which started his thoughts and feelings 
in the right direction. Here, when his parents 
died leaving him an orphan at the age of fifteen, 
he was still the companion of his two sisters, for 
whom he always cherished the warmest brotherly 



6 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

affection and most chivalrous regard. The mu- 
tual love and fidelity constantly manifested by 
three so near and dear to one another, illustrate 
how sacred and beautiful is the friendship of 
kindred, the reciprocal devotion of brother and 
sisters. Among W. H. Lytle's latest verses are 
the lines : 

" In vain for me the applause oi men, 
The laurel won by sword or pen, 
But for the hope, so dear and sweet. 
To lay my trophies at your feet." 

These lines were written for the poet's sisters ; 
and when he lay dead on the field of Chicka- 
mauga, friends found in his pocket-book the last 
letter they wrote to him, a letter filled with anxious 
solicitude and affectionate assurances. 

WiUiam H. Lytle inherited the martial spirit of 
his ancestors, and the gift of eloquence. He 
early manifested a natural tendency to express 
himself in oratorical prose and romantic verse. 
The poetical predilection he derived from his 
mother, who was an accom.plished writer in meter 
and prose. The favorite themes on which he 
exercised his boyish invention were patriotic. 



BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 7 

Stimulated to the pursuit of knowledge by all that 
he saw and heard at home, he read and studied 
and wrote, with that eager pleasure which, in an 
ambitious youth, gives promise of rapid progress. 
With steady fervor, he pored over books, not as a 
task, but as a privilege. 

The formal schooling he received was from the 
professors of the old Cincinnati College, of which 
his grandfather was a founder, and in which his 
father was educated. Young Lytle gave his en- 
ergy to the study of language, English, Latin, 
Greek, German and French. His diligence was 
such that, before completing his sixteenth year, 
he finished the prescribed course and graduated 
with first honors, the youngest student in his class. 
The ''oration" which he delivered on the occa- 
sion, February 3, 1843, was on ''Law and the 
Legal Profession." A local newspaper mentions 
the speech as "the gem of the evening," and re- 
marks that ' ' Master Lytle is unquestionably an 
uncommonly good speaker; the mantle of his 
parent seems to have fallen upon him, graced by 
additional gifts from the God of Eloquence, which 
adds to it fresh luster and brilliance " — a strain of 
rhetorical praise which probably pleased the young 



8 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

orator. Doubtless the several students who spoke 
graduation speeches that evening in College Hall 
were conscious of some special demand on them 
to meet the highest expectation of General Lewis 
Cass, who chanced to be in town and was present 
at the exercises. 

The speech on law and lawyers was by no 
means the maiden effort of its author. A packet 
of closely-written, neatly-folded manuscripts, pre- 
pared for delivery before the Phi Delta Sigma 
society of the college, and preserved by the poet's 
sisters, contains a number of academic exercises 
of merit far beyond that usually discovered in 
lads of fourteen or fifteen. One of these compo- 
sitions is on ''Love of Country," and another 
treats of ''Intellectual Freedom," or rather, of 
the evil of mental servitude. In this last, the 
hereditary ardor and local pride of the young 
speaker are brought out in a vigorous appeal to 
his fellow students to be worthy of their ancestors 
and the place of their nativity. ''And then," he 
cries, "mightiest of motives — there is your line- 
age ! descendants of the Western pioneers ! natives 
of Western soil ! Can you be degenerate ?" In 



BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 9 

conclusion he quotes from William D. Gallagher 
the lines beginning, — 

" Land of the West — green forest land ! 
Thine early day for deeds is famed, 
Which in heroic page shall stand 
Till bravery is no longer named." 

While pursuing his studies at the old college, 
and finding such inspiration as could come to a 
a boy in a new city, which he called the "Athens 
of the Backwoods," Lytle "caught the trick" of 
verse, and often amused himself composing sim- 
ple ballads and songs. The earliest of his metri- 
cal pieces that escaped destruction was composed 
when he was only fourteen years old, and is called 
"The Soldier's Death." 

Having finished the college course, Lytle 
studied law under the guidance of his mother's 
brother, E. S. Haines, in whose office he was 
made ready for admission to the Cincinnati bar. 
During the five years of preparation, in his 
uncle's office, he found time to extend his gen- 
eral knowledge of science and literature, and 
especially of French and German. 

The Mexican war, which broke out in 1846, 



10 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

had a romantic, adventurous, and spectacular 
character, irresistibly attractive to young men of 
cavalier instincts. The reports and rumors that 
came from Taylor's army, of marches and battles 
and bombardments, in the gulf-girt mountain 
land of the ancient Montezumas, sounded like 
some tale of mediaeval war, in which personal 
deeds of daring and pursuits of love made 
knight-errantry the glory of manhood. Hun- 
dreds of volunteers enlisted from all parts of the 
Ohio valley, leaving book on shelf and plow in 
furrow, to follow the flag in Mexico. No wonder 
that the martial blood of the young and brave was 
stirred by the recital of daring exploits and 
perilous escapes, shared by heroes who charged 
on the field of Palo Alto or helped storm Monte- 
rey. The very names, Mexico, Cerro Gordo, 
Cherubusco, had a sonorous sound echoing of 
old Spain. Captain George W. Cutter led the 
Kenton Guards from Covington to the seat of 
war, and, after the battle of Buena Vista, told in 
verse how 

"Amidst the sanguine dews 
Lay the guards of Montezuma 
And the knights of Vera Cruz." 



THE WAR IN MEXICO. 11 

And another Kentucky poet, O'Hara, volun- 
teering at the outbreak of the war, marched away 
beyond the Rio Grande, followed by those gal- 
lant soldiers whose valor and death he com- 
memorated afterward in the immortal quatrain : 

" On fame's eternal camping ground 
Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory guards, with solemn round, 
The bivouac of the dead." 

Strange would it have been, had not William 
H. Lytle heard the bugle blow and the drum 
roll, even in his dreams, calling him to don the 
sword of his fathers, if for no other reason, from 
the impulse of military ardor and the love of 
glory. EnHsting in the summer of 1847, though 
yet in his minority, he was chosen first Heutenant 
in Company L in the Second Regiment of In- 
fantry, Ohio Volunteers, Colonel Irwin of Lan- 
caster commanding. The regiment was received 
into the service on the fifth of October, 1847, ^^^ 
disbanded on the twenty-fifth of July, 1848. On 
the twenty-first of December, 1847, Lytle was 
made captain of his company. 

Lytle's campaigning in Mexico came too late 



12 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

in the war to afford much occasion for active 
service, but it furnished valuable experience in 
military training, and gave opportunity to see a 
wonderful, tropical region, and to enjoy the 
poetical and romantic emotions evoked by ad- 
ventures new and strange. The ten months' 
sojourn in Mexico was rich in literary material, 
part of which he worked up in letters mainly de- 
scriptive of scenery. Some of his best poems 
were the fruit of his Mexican experience, for ex- 
ample, "The Volunteers" and * ' Popocatapetl. " 

Every youth whom " Fate reserves for a bright 
manhood," comes soon upon the day which bids 
him lay hold of his life-work in earnest, quit the 
dream and begin the deed. Lytle had in him a 
steady fire of energy which kept him always 
active. There was nothing eccentric about him, 
nothing hesitating or despondent. Though of 
the so-called ''poetic temperament," he did not 
affect peculiar sensibilities, indulge unruly pass- 
ions, or exact tribute of sentimental sympathy 
from his friends. He was strong and self-reliant, 
asking no one to live for him or to die for him. 
Returning to Cincinnati, when the Mexican war 
was ended, he entered into a law partnership with 



LAWYER AND POLITICIAN. 13 

the firm of Haines, Todd & Lytle ; and at once 
found business as an advocate in the courts of the 
city. His general popularity among both Demo- 
crats and Whigs, and his known abiUty as a pub- 
lic speaker, led his friends of the Democratic 
party to nominate him as candidate for state legis- 
lature, to which office he was elected in 1852. 
He served two terms in the House of Representa- 
tives, and was for a time speaker of that body. 
All the accounts which we have seen of his 
political career agree in testifying that, though he 
spoke seldom, his speaking was always to the 
point, clear, forcible, and effective. 

One of his addresses, delivered in 1853, at- 
tracted much attention. The speech was in 
advocacy of a bill introduced by Durbin Ward, 
of Warren county, to appropriate ten thousand 
dollars for a statue of Washington by Hiram 
Powers, to be placed in the State House. The 
discourse was eloquent and persuasive, and it has 
a special interest because it discusses matters of 
taste and art, and pays deserved tribute to the 
genius of an American sculptor. 

In 1857, Mr. Lytle was the candidate of the 
Democrats for lieutenant-governor, and canvassed 



14 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

the State, but was not elected. Governor Chase, 
in the same year, bestowed upon him the com- 
mission of major-general, commanding the first 
division of the Ohio militia. At that time no one 
foresaw the imminence of the war-cloud which 
was to burst in 1861. Though no acts of special 
military or political significance are ascribed to 
W. H. Lytle from the time of his appointment to 
the command of the militia to the breaking out 
of the Civil War, yet, perhaps, the verdict of pos- 
terity will be, that within that period he created, 
in a happy hour, that which will perpetuate his 
memory after his war laurels have faded. In 
July, 1858 he wrote his best poem. 

The story of General Lytle's splendid career 
from the day when Fort Sumter yielded to the day 
of his death on the field of Chickamauga — a period 
of less than two years and eight months — covers 
the events of three principal campaigns, each sig- 
nalized by a terrible battle. The time was indeed 
short, but it seems long because the flying days 
of it were laden with deeds of historic moment. 
The time was short, but long enough to develop 
many heroes ; but not one more illustrious than 
William Haines Lytle, the poet-warrior. 



AWAY TO THE WARS AGAIN. 15 

President Lincoln's first call for troops was is- 
sued on Sunday, April 15, 1861. Next day, the 
governor of Ohio, William Dennison, telegraphed 
to General Lytle, ordering him to establish a camp 
at Cincinnati. Summoning his staff to meet at 
the Burnet House, he kept them at work all night 
recruiting a regiment. A local military company, 
the Guthrie Grays, was made the nucleus of the 
organization. So many volunteers desired to en- 
list that the doors of the rendezvous had to be 
locked after the last company of the regiment 
was filled with picked men. Hundreds of appli- 
cants were disappointed. On Tuesday the troops 
marched to Camp Harrison, on the grounds of 
the old trotting park, near Spring Grove. This 
was the first properly organized camp of instruc- 
tion in the West. 

The suddenly-formed camp at once attracted 
universal attention to its scenes of busy prepara- 
tion and high-wrought excitement. The chief 
interest and admiration centered in the com- 
mander. Scarcely had the troops assembled be- 
fore throngs of citizens flocked to camp to proffer 
words of cheer and gifts of price. Mass was 
celebrated in the Irish companies of the Tenth 



16 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Regiment, and Archbishop Purcell made a stir- 
ring speech to the soldiers. On the same day, 
May 15th, a sword was presented to Colonel 
Lytle by T. J. Gallagher, from members of the 
Cincinnati bar. Other friends made the colonel 
an equally appropriate present, a handsome black 
horse of noble breed, bearing the Irish name, 
Faugh-a-Ballaugh, or " Clear the Way." 

On the 4th of June, 1861, the governor of Ohio 
issued a commission appointing Lytle colonel of 
the Tenth Infantry, Ohio Volunteers, known as 
the Montgomery Regiment, in honor of the 
Montgomery Guards. The regiment presently 
marched from Camp Harrison to Camp Denni- 
son, on the Little Miami Railroad, sixteen miles 
from Cincinnati. Before the departure of the 
troops to Virginia, whither they were ordered, 
a stand of regimental colors was presented to the 
Tenth Regiment, an offering from patriotic women 
of Cincinnati. The flags were presented by 
Hon. Bellamy Storer, with an appropriate ad- 
dress. Colonel Lytle replied in these words : 

''Sir: On behalf of the Tenth Regiment, I 
tender to the ladies of Cincinnati, through you, 
our heartfelt thanks for these beautiful flags. 



. THE BLOODY TENTH. 17 

**When these wars are over, we will bring 
them back again to the Queen City of the West, 
without spot or blemish. 

"You see around you a thousand men who to- 
day say good-by to their sweethearts and their 
friends. God bless the city, the state, the Union, 
and the ladies. We make no promises, but when it 
comes to the clash of steel, remember the Tenth. 

' ' Sir, tell the ladies that there is not a man in 
these ranks who will not shed his heart's blood 
like water beneath these colors. 

*'We bid you good-by, and God bless you all. 
*Faugh-a-Ballaugh.'" 

The Montgomery regiment moved without de- 
lay to the assigned field of duty, in Western 
Virginia, taking its place in the general army. 
Numerous important services were required of 
the regiment, though it engaged in no great bat- 
tle until September. Repeated testimonies came 
from the war correspondents to the effect that 
*' Colonel Lytle and his officers deserved the 
highest credit for their success in the long, heavy 
march over the mountains;" that "the colonel 
was wearing well and was fit for his onerous 
tasks ;" and that his men were having a full share 



18 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

of "bush-whacking" and guerrilla warfare. On 
one occasion of terrible excitement, almost panic, 
Lytle rode in among the men, ' ' addressed them 
in happy but emphatic terms, and left them cheer- 
ing lustily all he said." 

The battle of Carnifex Ferry, fought on Sep- 
tember lo, 1 86 1, was the first in which the Tenth 
Ohio v/as engaged, and the first scene of great 
slaughter witnessed by Colonel Lytle. The crim- 
son baptism which the Montgomery regiment that 
day received rechristened it The Bloody Tenth. 
The new banner which mothers, sisters, wives, 
and sweethearts had given to the boys in blue, 
on the peaceful banks of the Miami, went down 
in the conflict, but was not lost. Under its very 
folds, the young Colonel who had received it, 
and given pledge to protect it, fell wounded. His 
sergeant, Michael Fitzgibbons, shot all but to 
pieces, gasping in death, said : ' ' Never mind me ! 
Where is the flag ? Where is it ? For God's 
sake save the flag !" Another color-bearer, Dan- 
iel O' Conner, was shot down. Then Captain 
Stephen McGroarty, held up the colors, was 
struck by a rifle ball and fell wounded. All this 
gallant work — no playing soldier now — took place 



THE BATTLE OF CARNIFEX FERRY. 19 

immediately after Colonel Lytle fell, from the 
effect of a wound in the leg. A witness of the 
action says : ' ' Lytle realized every idea of chiv- 
alry I had formed from romance or history." 
The gallant colonel was mounted on the black 
charger, Faugh-a-Ballaugh, when hit by the ball 
which also wounded the steed. The rider came 
to the ground, and, snatching a musket, began 
to fire at the foe, but the horse, plunging, fell 
dead within the enemy's works. A generous en- 
thusiasm of valor glowed in the hearts of Lytle's 
men, and spread to other regiments. Colonel 
Lowe, of the Twelfth Ohio, was heard to say, 
the moment before a bullet killed him : '' I want 
to be where Lytle is. There is where the fight- 
ing will be." Captain McGroarty, the color-bearer, 
said: ''Why, there are no men but would bat- 
tle to the death if led by Colonel Lytle." 

Colonel Lytle, with other wounded officers, 
was brought to Cincinnati, where, at the residence 
of his brother-in-law, Samuel J. Broadwell, he 
was cared for affectionately by his two sisters. 
All Cincinnati was ablaze with enthusiasm. The 
beautiful regimental flag, bearing the inscription, 
''God and Our Union," which the ladies had 



20 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

presented to the " Bloody Tenth," in June, was 
placed in a show-window of Shillito's store on 
Fourth street. A newspaper item said: ''The 
staff is broken into several pieces, and in front of 
the banner lies the oil-cloth cover, stained with 
blood." People came in curiosity to look, but, 
looking, could not see, for tears. The dread re- 
ality of war was but too sadly emblazoned in that 
blood-stained silken symbol. The common emo- 
tion found expression in several pieces of verse, 
among which was one by Mrs. S. H. Oliver, en- 
titled, "Banner of the Tenth Ohio." The last 
two stanzas of her poem are here quoted : 

*' On the banks of Gaulej river, 
Many a son of Erin died; 
Many a brave and lojal German 
Fought Columbia's sons beside. 

Honor to the Tenth Ohio, 

Who the brunt of battle braved; 

Henceforth let it be remembered, 
Erin'L- sons the banner saved." 

Having recovered from his wound, Colonel 
Lytle was placed in command of Camp Morton, 
at Bardstown, Ky., a camp of rendezvous and 



A NEW COMMAND. 21 

instruction, with an average presence of ten 
thousand troops. He remained at this post from 
late in January till the beginning of April, 1862, 
and was then assigned to the command of the 
Seventeenth Brigade of the Third Division of the 
Army of the Cumberland, General O. M. Mitchel 
commanding. A correspondent of the ' ' Cincin- 
nati Enquirer," writing under date of March 27, 
1862, gives a lively description of what happened 
when Lytle presented himself for special orders 
at Camp Van Buren, Murfreesboro : ' ^ While I 
write," he says, " I hear a tremendous cheering, 
and go out to learn what it means. I see the 
guard turned out at present arms to some digni- 
tary, and hasten to see who it is. Imagine my 
surprise, when I see Major Moore, of the Tenth 
Ohio, ride up to a squadron of cavalry and shake 
hands with a very modest-looking trooper, who, 
on closer inspection, turned out to be Colonel 
William H. Lytle. He was now on his way to 
General MitcheFs quarters, where the Tenth met 
him on their return from town. As soon as the 
boys recognized him, a cheer went up that called 
out the whole camp ; hats, caps, and guns went 



22 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

up in wild confusion, and the scene presented by 
the enthusiastic Tenth beggars description." 

On the 23d of August, 1862, orders were is- 
sued instructing Colonel Lytle to " take command 
of all the forces at Huntsville and hasten the 
shipments of suppHes " from that point to Louis- 
ville. The general commanding expressed in ad- 
vance his confidence in Colonel Lytle' s judgment 
and efficiency as an officer, " to perform the im- 
portant and probably hazardous duties " assigned 
to him. Nor was this confidence misplaced. 
The march was successfully accomplished within 
seventeen days, without the loss of a soldier, an 
animal or a wagon. On the last day the com- 
mand marched thirty-two miles, reaching Louis- 
ville on September 26th. Besides the troops, 
which included the Tenth Ohio, Fifteenth Ken- 
tucky, two companies Alabama loyal troops, one 
company Michigan engineers and mechanics, 
Loomis', Ames', Ballard's, and Kennett's cavalry, 
the Third Ohio, and Forty-second Iowa, and 
Stone's Battery, the command was burdened with 
a train of over a hundred wagons, a drove of 
between five hundred and six hundred horses, and 
also by a large number of refugees. The dust 



BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE. 23 

and heat were intolerable, and the water was 
scarce ; but, notwithstanding drawbacks, the march 
was a " complete success." 

The general movements of the armies of Buell 
and Bragg in the series of military operations 
culminating in the battle of Perryville can be read 
in any history of the Civil War. The special 
part of the general action, with which our sketch 
is concerned, was very clearly described in an 
admirable paper on Colonel Lytle read before the 
Loyal Legion by Dr. A. C. Kemper, in 1883, 
from which we quote : 

"Colonel Harris notified Colonel Lytle that his 
left flank was exposed. Colonel Lytle saw that 
his right flank also was attacked by overwhelming 
numbers. Upon the one side. General Bragg 
appeared in person on the field, and General 
Polk, encouraging his troops , and on the other, 
General Rosecrans, a host in himself. Colonel 
Lytle begged for reinforcements. He was or- 
dered by General McCook to hold his ground. 
Next day it was asked by some one if, under such 
circumstances, he obeyed the order. The reply 
was : * Go ask Rousseau ! Go ask the Fifteenth 



24 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Kentucky ! And, if you dare, go ask the Tenth 
Ohio if Lytic obeyed the order ! ' 

"The most practicable thing to do was done. 
Colonel Lytle dismounted, and led in person a 
charge by the flank. A fragment of a shell struck 
him on the left side of the head, behind the ear, 
prostrating him and covering him with blood. 
Sergeant Donohue lifted him in his arms, only to 
be told : ' Leave me ; I 'm done for. Stand by 
your colors !' He was left upon the field v/ith his 
dead orderly, Robb • one of his aides, Lieutenant 
St. John ; and two hundred and sixty-five out of 
five hundred and twenty-eight of the Tenth 
Ohio." 

His wound, though frightful in appearance, did 
not prove dangerous. He was taken prisoner, but 
soon released on parole, and sent home. The 
battle of Perryville was fought October 7, 1862; 
Colonel Lytle returned to the home of his brother- 
in-law, Dr. Foster, Cincinnati, on October 13th. 

Lytle was ill-content to stay at home longer 
than necessity required. Immediately he solicited 
the Secretary of War to hasten orders for his 
exchange. Secretary Stanton responded in a tele- 
gram, dated October 14, saying: "The adjutant- 



PRISONER OF WAR. 25 

general is instructed negotiate your exchange as 
speedily as possible. Allow me to express my 
high estimation of your gallantry and hope for 
your speedy recovery and restoration to your 
comm.and with appropriate rank." On the next 
day, the following letter was dispatched from the 
state capital : 

Headquarters Paroled Prisoners, 
''Columbus, O, October 2^, 1862. 

^^ Colonel — Yours of yesterday reporting your- 
self as a paroled prisoner is at hand. 

*' I will answer it myself. Colonel, that the oppor- 
tunity to tell you how sincerely sorry I am that 
you are hurt and a prisoner may not slip me. I 
wish, also, to congratulate you that you have won 
fame so far. Courage and a clear head are God's 
good gifts, and for our country's sake I am glad 
you have so nobly manifested them as your prop- 
erties. 

" No doubt you are in excellent quarters, sur- 
rounded by friends ; if so, remain there until you 
are recovered, exchanged, and receive orders. 
You are needed in the field, where I wish to 



26 WILLIAk HAINES LYTLE. 

heaven I could accompany you. Wishing you 
well, Colonel, I am most truly your friend, 

" Lewis Wallace, Maj.-Genl. 
'*To Colonel W. H. Lytle." 

The complimentary dispatch from the Secretary 
of War, and General Wallace's cordial letter of 
soldierly congratulation, though grateful to Colo- 
nel Lytle's feelings, only increased his anxiety to 
return to the field and resume his command. 
After waiting impatiently two months for news 
of his restoration to the service, he wrote to the 
commissary of prisoners, inclosing a copy of Sec- 
retary Stanton's telegram. His letter ran as fol- 
lows: 

" Cincinnati, yd;;??^dr;7 5, 1863. 
** Colonel William Hoffman, U. S. A., 

^^ Commissary General of Prisoners, Washing- 
ton, D. C: 

" Colonel— hi the battle of Perry ville, Ken- 
tucky, while engaged in rallying one of my regi- 
ments, momentarily thrown into some disorder by 
an attack of the enemy in great force, I was dis- 
abled by a wound and taken prisoner. On the 
day following, I was paroled at Harrodsburg. 



FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 27 

On the night of my arrival in this city, I received 
a telegram from Washington, of which the in- 
closed is a copy. Notwithstanding this order to 
the adjutant-general, I have not yet, after the 
lapse of more than two months, received any 
notification of my exchange, and recently, at 
Murfreesboro, to my intense regret, my old com- 
mand has been in action without me. May I 
not ask. Colonel, your earliest attention to my 
case, and that, if practicable, my exchange may 
be effected without greater delay ? 

**I will add, that my address is to Cincinnati, 
under orders from Major-General Wallace, com- 
manding camp of paroled prisoners at Columbus, 
dated October 25, 1862, to remain here until I 
was recovered, exchanged, and receive orders. 

*' I have the honor to be. Colonel, your obe- 
dient servant, 

'^Wm. H. Lytle, 

* ' Colonel Tenth Ohio, lately commanding Seventeenth 
Brigade^ Rousseau^ s Division. 

On November 29th, Colonel Lytle was pro- 
moted to the rank of brigadier-general, and early 
in the following February he was assigned to the 



28 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

command of the First Brigade, in the Third Di- 
vision, Twentieth Army Corps of the Army of 
the Cumberland. The corps was commanded by 
Rosecrans, the division by Sheridan. Lytle's 
brigade had been commanded by General Sill, a 
distinguished Ohioan, who fell in the battle of 
Murfreesboro. A sergeant-major in the brigade, 
referring to Lytle's succession to Sill's command, 
says: 

"It speedily became apparent that the same 
lofty courtesies and qualities of mind and heart 
which had so endeared to us the one, shone out 
with an equal luster in the character of the other. 
The same calm breadth of justice, the same high 
scorn of meanness and baseness, the same rare 
culture, the same philosophic quiet and studious 
earnestness to excel, the same genial warmth of 
manner, the same affectionate tenderness for the 
comfort of his subordinates, whether officers or 
men, the same scrupulous care not to offend, the 
same magnanimity toward foes, and the same 
magnificent surrender of self toward friends, dis- 
tinct in individuals, yet alike in their grand re- 
semblances to the patterns and models of the 
race — it is enough for me to say that the beautiful 



FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 29 

tribute which General Lytle, in his late speech at 
Bridgeport, paid to the virtues and valor and wis- 
dom of Sill, is itself the best and truest eulogy 
that can be pronounced over Lytle." 

The speech alluded to was a notable one which 
was delivered in accepting a jeweled Maltese cross 
presented at Bridgeport, Alabama, by officers of 
the Tenth Ohio. The magnificent ornament, of 
gold set with emeralds and diamonds, with in- 
scriptions, and the Irish emblem, the shamrock, 
engraved upon it, was presented near a spring 
close by the general's quarters, on a Sunday even- 
ing, August 9, 1863, just seven weeks before the 
day of his death at Chickamauga, Lieutenant- 
Colonel Ward, of the Tenth Ohio, made the pre- 
sentation speech, and pinned the cross to the gen- 
eral's coat. In the course of his eloquent ad- 
dress in reply. General Lytle said : 

'*I will not deny, gentlemen, that, when, on re- 
porting to this department, I found you were to 
be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
army associations were broken up. My present 
command will pardon me for saying this, I know, 
for, in my judgment, no man who forgets his old 



30 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

friends deserves to make new ones. But long 
since I have felt perfectly at home, and I can not 
let this occasion pass without expressing to the 
officers and men of the First Brigade my heartfelt 
thanks for the warm and generous welcome they 
have awarded to a stranger. Gentlemen of the 
Tenth Ohio, you see around you your brethren 
in arms, the men of Sheridan's division; men 
from the North-west, from the clans of the peo- 
ple, who pitch their tents on the prairies of Illi- 
nois and Michigan and Wisconsin, and by the 
shores of the great lakes — veterans of Pea Ridge, 
Perryville, and Stone River. When the next 
fight comes on, may they and the old Tenth 
stand shoulder to shoulder, and see by whom, in 
glorious emulation, our battle-flags into the ranks 
of the enemy can be flung the farthest and fol- 
lowed the closest." 

In this noble strain the orator went on, making 
the most memorable speech of his life, a speech 
which, in its simple fervid force and sincerity, is 
not unworthy to be placed side by side with Lin- 
coln's, at Gettysburg. The closing paragraph of 
the warrior poet's address is in the following 
words : 



FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 31 

"That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis- 
dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
be for all of us here to-day to listen to the chants 
that greet the victor, nor to hear the bells ring 
out the new nuptials of the States. But those 
who do survive can tell, at least, to the people, 
how their old comrades, whether in the skirmish 
or the charge, before the rifle-pit or the redan, 
died with their harness on, in the great war for the 
Union and Liberty." 

The effect of this eloquent address — the last 
public utterance, as it proved, of a brave patriot 
— was profound and thrilling. 

The poet, Richard Realf, who was present — 
then sergeant-major in the Eighty-eighth Ilhnois 
Volunteers — was inspired by the speech to com- 
pose, on the field, the following sonnet, which 
we copy from the original draft. 

SONNET. 

[Speech of Brigadier General Wm. H. Lytle, Bridgeport, Ala.] 

" Vates! " I shouted, while your solemn words, 
Rythmic with crowned passion lilted past, 



32 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

" That land which, clung with agony, affords 
Great souls all coined in one grand battle-blast 
Like this soul and this singing, shall not fail 
So much as by a hair-breadth, of the large 
Results of affluent wisdom, whereunto 
Across the bloody gaps our swords must hew, 
And far beyond the mountain and the marge. 
We press with bruised limbs that yet shall scale 
The topmost heights of being:" therefore thou 
Lead on, that we may follow, for I think 
The future hath not w herefrom we should shrink ; 
Held by the steadfast shining of your brow." 

The terrific battle of Chickamauga, so fraught 
with disaster, so memorable for deeds of heroic 
daring, raged for two days, September 19 and 20, 
1863. It was in the forenoon of the second day, 
Sunday, that General Lytle while directing the 
movements of his brigade, on horseback, was 
shot and killed by a ball which struck him in the 
head. He was the only Union officer of high 
rank who fell that day. 

The manuscript journal of Captain Alfred Pir- 
tle, aid-de-camp on General Lytle's staff, affords 
an accurate and sympathetic description of the 
general's personal aspect and conduct on the bat- 



CHICKAMAUGA, 33 

tie-field just before the onslaught in which his 
life was lost. The journal says : 

*'The Eighty-eighth Illinois, led by General 
Lytle, charged the enemy and took position on 
the top of a gentle slope. A few moments after, 
the Thirty-sixth Illinois joins them, and then the 
Twenty-fourth Wisconsin moves up to the sup- 
port of the Thirty-sixth Illinois. Our other regi- 
ment, the Twenty-first Michigan, is also soon en- 
gaged, and a section of the Eleventh Indiana 
Battery pushed up the hill by hand. 

"The general is sitting on his horse at this 
time, facing south, his left side toward the en- 
emy, grasping in military style his reins in his 
left hand; his sword drawn, the blade sloping 
upward, rests upon the reins. He wears high 
top boots, plain dark blue pants, overcoat with- 
out ornament or cape, buttoned to the throat, 
with sword-belt outside— the only mark of rank 
being the gold cord of a general on a military 
hat ; under his overcoat he wears a single-breasted 
blouse with brigadier-general shoulder-straps. His 
horse is caparisoned as becomes his rank. Upon 
his face is an indiscribable expression caused by 
what is called the ' battle-fire '—a spirit of en- 



34 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

thusiasm brought on by the tremendous excite- 
ment of the conflict, which irradiates every fea- 
ture, sparkles from his eyes, marks with sharp 
outlines the curves of the nostrils, and seems 
ready to leap forth in words from his parted lips. 
I can almost see him now. 

He leans toward me, and I bend to catch his 
words, while he calmly says with a firm voice, 
*Pirtle, I am hit/ For an instant I can not 
speak ; my heart almost ceases to beat, but I say, 
*Are you hit hard. General?' * In the spine; if 
I have to leave the field, you stay here and see 
that all goes right.' ' I will. General.' And then, 
after a pause, I say, 'Good-by,' not knowing 
whether he is going or not. 

''The enemy's fire is heavier, indicating that 
they are reinforced, while our men drop fast. A 
moment or two after, in order to strengthen the 
thin line, he sent me away to bring up a regi- 
ment that had fallen back below the brow of the 
hill. While doing this, the line began to give 
way, the general's horse galloped wildly down the 
hill, and I felt that he had fallen from his wound. 
My horse was wounded by an exploding shell, 
escaping from me in his terror and pain, but I 



CHICKAMAUGA. 35 

made an effort to get back to the spot where I 
had left the general, till the tide of men retiring 
in some confusion, forced me to turn from my di- 
rect path, and I could not approach the scene, as 
our line was being driven back. I was told that 
General Lytle was killed, and with a heart almost 
bursting with emotion, I joined in the retreat. 

* 'After the battle, I met one of our orderHes, a 
soldier of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin, who was 
ever ready to do the utmost for the general, and 
who said he reached General Lytle's side after he 
had fallen from his horse, lying speechless, but he 
handed him his sword and motioned him from the 
field." 

The desperate final dash, which Captain Pirtle 
could not witness, was described by others who 
saw the close of the dread drama. Lytle said to 
his staff before the third and last onset which he 
led that day, '* All right, men! We can die but 
once ! This is our time and place. Let us 
charge ! " 

Captain E. B. Parsons, commander of Com- 
pany K, Twenty-fourth Wisconsin Volunteers, 
whose private letters to his parents and others 
written at Chattanooga, in October, 1863, have 



36 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

been consulted in the preparation of this memoir, 
narrating the particulars of the fatal charge, says : 
" From the moment I saw an aide from General 
Sheridan ride to General Lytle with an order for 
him to bring his brigade into action, he was con- 
stantly in my sight up to the moment he was shot. 
A few moments before we were ordered in, he 
rode down alone near where I was standing, and 
as I saluted him, he wheeled his horse around 
and, speaking to the men of my company, said : 
' Boys, if we whip them to-day, we will eat our 
Christmas dinner at home.' Soon the bugles 
rang out and we started, our regiment following 
the battery, and as we left the road and formed 
line of battle. General Lytle and his staff rode 
right behind the center of our regiment, and he 
remained there until he was shot. Almost the 
last words he uttered were, ' Brave, brave, brave 
boys ! ' As I was looking into his face, a ball 
struck him, and seemed to me must have struck 
him in the face or head, for the blood flowed from 
his mouth. He did not fall from his horse, but 
one of his staff officers eased him down on the 
ground." 

The young officer who received the dying gen- 



CAPTAIN Greene's account. 



37 



eral into his arms was Captain Howard Greene, 
of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin. In a letter to 
Dr. N. Foster, dated November i, 1863, he gives 
the following particulars : ''We had been hotly 
engaged with the enemy for nearly half an hour 
before he was struck. At the time the general 
and myself were on horseback, in the front line. 
He had just turned to give an order, when he 
was struck in the face. He was no sooner struck 
than he reeled in his saddle and I saw at once 
that he was seriously wounded, and that, unless 
caught by some one, he would fall headlong to 
the ground. I jumped from my horse, caught 
him by the head and shoulders, and lifted him 
carefully down. He recognized me as I caught 
him, and tried to speak." . . . ''I called 
Passmore and Sillcox, two of the general's or- 
derlies, to me, and we then started with the body 
to the rear. We had gone but a short distance 
when we met Colonel J. F. Harrison coming up 
with a regiment he had been rallying. As soon 
as he saw us, he jumped from his horse and helped 
us carry the general. A few steps further on, 
Sillcox was killed. By this time the brigade had 
broken, and was going past us to the rear. It 



38 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

was just at this time that Lytle opened his eyes 
and tried to speak, but could not. I asked him 
if he wished to He down, and he nodded." . . . 
"Soon after this the general breathed his last. 
Colonel Harrison then left to rally his men, and 
I was left alone with the body. I knelt down by 
the general's side and satisfied myself that he was 
indeed lifeless. By this time the rebels were 
closing in from our left and were not a hundred 
feet away, and, feeling satisfied that I could be 
of no further use to the general, I also went to 
the rear." 

Within less than a month after this letter was 
written, the brave Captain Greene was himself 
killed (November 25th), in the charge at Mission 
Ridge. 

The gallant Colonel Wm. B. McCreery, of the 
Twenty-first Michigan Infantry, was one of those 
who helped to bear the general from the field, 
and while so doing was himself wounded, taken 
prisoner, and afterward confined in Libby. 

General Lytle had been carried to a green 
knoll under a tree, where his body was afterward 
recognized by confederate officers. The respect- 
ful and even reverential care which it received at 



CHIClCAMAUGA. 39 

the hands of the enemy was owing largely to the 
fact that the dead general was recognized not 
only as a distinguished soldier, but also as a poet. 
A confederate major, Douglas West, of General 
Zack Deas' brigade, was requested by a federal 
officer to protect the body of the dead general. 
West relates that, on hearing the name Lytle, he 
was thrilled, being ^' familiar with the poem which 
made the name immortal." Major West took in 
his keeping the general's sword-belt and scabbard, 
pistol, portmonnaie, memorandum book, spurs, 
and even his shoulder-straps. "That night," he 
says, ''in our bivouac by the camp-fire, we read 
the papers, letters, and scraps of poetry that we 
found in the pocket-book." 

The confederate officer, Colonel Wm. Miller 
Owen, in his reminiscences of the civil war, relates 
that, while riding over the battle-field of Chicka- 
amauga, on September 20, 1863, he came upon 
the body of General Lytle, which he recognized 
as that of an old friend. He says : "A confederate 
soldier was standing guard over the body. Dis- 
mounting, I asked the man his instructions, and 
he replied : ' I am here to take charge of this body, 
and to allow no one to touch it.* 'AH right,' I 



40 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

said : ' I hope you will do it.' Lytle was dressed 
in fatigue uniform. His shoulder-straps, one star, 
indicated his rank of a brigadier-general. He 
wore high riding boots, a regulation overcoat, 
dark kid-gloves. While standing beside the body, 
General Preston rode up, and asked : ' Who have 
you there ?' I replied : ' General Lytle, of Cin- 
cinnati.' *Ah!' said General Preston, 'General 
Lytle, the son of my old friend Bob Lytle ! I 
am sorry it is so.' And he then dismounted, and 
was much affected. After asking the sentinel his 
instructions, and receiving the same answer I had 
obtained, he said to him : * See that you do it, 
my man.' " 

A beautiful instance of personal friendship be- 
tween enemies in war, was afforded by the con- 
duct of a confederate surgeon, E. W. Thomason, 
who had been a fellow-soldier with Lytle in Mex- 
ico, and who, recognizing the body of his old 
comrade on the field of Chickamauga, had it carried 
to his tent, gave it decent burial, and marked the 
grave. The wounds on the face of the dead 
officer his southern friend covered first with green 
leaves, then with a lace net and a fine cambric 
handkerchief. Nor did a thoughtful sympathy 



FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 41 

forget a still more delicate care. The surgeon 
clipped some locks of the slain soldier's hair, and 
sent them to the sisters of Lytle in Cincinnati. 
The articles found on his person were forwarded 
also. In his pocket-book were found a printed 
copy of a poem, of unknown authorship, entitled, 
*' Company K," and a letter from his sister, Mrs. 
Broadwell. 

The remains of General Lytle had been buried 
twenty days when they were recovered by Col- 
onel Ward of the Tenth Ohio, who bore a flag 
of truce to the confederate Unes. An escort of 
ten men from the Tenth Ohio, in charge of Lieu- 
tenant Donahue, conveyed the body to Louisville, 
where it was met by his brother-in-law. Dr. Fos- 
ter, and placed on the mail-boat Ncghtmgak. 
The boat reached Cincinnati at twelve o'clock, 
Wednesday, October 21. On their arrival, the 
remains were received by a company of sixty 
men from the Seventh Ohio militia, under com- 
mand of Captain R. W. Carroll, and were es- 
corted to the court-house and laid in state in the 
rotunda. The black coffin, with massive silver 
mountings, was placed on a dais in the center of 
the room, and was strewn with white roses. Four 



42 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

sentries guarded the body. One of these, a pri- 
vate of the old Tenth, having been ordered to 
keep still until relieved, stood at "order arms" 
for two hours, without moving a muscle, no one 
relieving him by some neglect. Being asked how 
long he intended to remain on guard in that rigid 
attitude, he said: ''Forever, if not regularly re- 
lieved." Such was the soldier's idea ot discipline 
and fidelity. 

During the afternoon a multitude of citizens, 
men and women, poured into the rotunda to look 
upon the casket that contained their hero's clay, 
over which the tattered flag of the Tenth Ohio 
drooped its mournful folds. Of those who paid 
tributes of grief that day, no one was more sin- 
cere than the aged colored servant who had been 
with General Lytle in his campaigns, and now 
stood weeping at the foot of the coffin. 

At sunset the body was taken from the court- 
house, and escorted to the residence of General 
Lytle's brother-in-law, Mr. S. J. Broadwell. 

The funeral obsequies of General Lytle were 
conducted with much solemnity, on the afternoon 
of Thursday, October 22, 1863. From an excel- 
lent editorial report, published in the Daily Com- 



FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 43 

mercial^ the following account of the solemn cere- 
monies is condensed. 

At one o'clock the doors of Christ Church, on 
Fourth street, were opened to the ladies, many of 
whom were already waiting. Many of the mothers 
and wives and sisters of those who had gone out 
with the brave Lytle to fight the battles of their 
county, took this opportunity of showing that re- 
spect for the fallen hero which they would wish 
to have shown to their own dear ones. To pre- 
vent crowding the church, no gentlemen were 
admitted at first, save those mentioned in the 
order of the day. The judges of the courts, 
members of the bar, the city council, the clergy, 
and others, entered and were seated in bodies by 
themselves. All the room except that required 
for the relatives and special friends was thus oc- 
cupied. 

At two o'clock the dirge from the band in the 
street announced the approach of the cortege. 
The deep and solemn tones of the organ inside 
the church responded to the music from without. 
At the door the remains of the departed general 
were met by Bishop Mcllvaine and Rev. Mr. 
McCarty, pastor of the church, and as with 



44 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

measured steps they led the way to the aitar, the 
congregation rose, and the bishop read from the 
Hturgy. Prayer and an anthem closed the ser- 
vices. The guard from the Tenth Ohio, who 
had attended the body faithfully from the day 
it left Chattanooga, then carried the coffin back 
to the hearse ; the mourners and several delega- 
tions followed, and entered the carriages in wait- 
ing. 

The streets were lined with spectators, and 
Fourth street, from Broadway to Race, was com- 
pletely blocked. Along the line of march, many 
beautiful flags were hung out, tied with crape, 
and in all parts of the city they drooped at half 
mast. 

The military display was the largest ever seen 
at any funeral obsequies in this city. Our four 
mihtia regiments were out in force. After the 
long lines of infantry in platoons, with arms re- 
versed, and marching to the solemn dirges played 
by the bands, came a battery of artillery, two 
guns abreast. 

The hearse, surrounded by a cluster of distin- 
guished pall-bearers, followed the battery. It was 
drawn by six milk-white horses, with black 



FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 45 

plumes, and was draped with emblems of mourn- 
ing. The coffin was partially covered with a 
beautiful silk flag. Behind the hearse stepped 
the charger of the departed hero, with the boots 
of the fallen rider depending from either side of 
the saddle. 

Carriages containing his staff and relatives 
came next, while near by walked the aged negro 
servant of the general, who was once the waiting 
man of Commodore Perry, now following the 
dead body of his second hero-master to the grave. 

Not far behind, the tattered banner of the 
Tenth Ohio was borne by some of the sturdy 
arms, which, under its folds, had struck heavily 
at the rebellion on more than one field. It is 
now a mere tatter of silk, grimed with expo- 
sure. It was closely furled and inclosed in fes- 
toons of crape, tied at intervals with black silk 
ribbons. 

An immense retinue of carriages, containing 
the mayor and city officials, bar, numerous navy 
and army officers, and many distinguished private 
citizens, brought up the rear of the procession. 
The police, handsomely uniformed, were in ad- 
vance. The procession occupied about half an 



46 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

hour in passing. It proceeded out Freeman 
street to Hamilton road, where the escort drew 
aside and permitted the hearse and carriages to 
pass on to Spring Grove, where all that is mor- 
tal of the gifted and noble-hearted Lytle now 
reposes, near the city of his birth and love. 

A large number of distinguished officers, in- 
cluding, probably, all who could reach the city, 
attended the funeral as mourners. Among the 
number was General Stanley, commanding the 
cavalry of the Army of the Cumberland. 

The Lytle monument stands in a beautiful 
cemetery in Cincinnati's suburbs. It is of the 
Grecian order of architecture, twenty-four and a 
half feet high, and is made of pure Carrara mar- 
ble. Upon the east and west sides are sculptured 
suspended laurel wreaths. The east side has the 
name of William Lytle ; the west, that of Robert T. 
Lytle. The north side shows the symbolic scroll 
and pen; underneath is inscribed the name of 
General William H. Lytle. The south side is 
adorned by a bas-relief representing the battle- 
field of Chickamauga. The general, seated on 
his horse, and with drawn sword, is in the act of 
leading the charging columns on that fatal day. 



CHARACTER OF LYTLE. 47 

The bas-relief is surmounted by a cap adorned 
with shield and cross-swords. Above all these 
springs a thirteen fluted column, suggestively- 
broken off. On the top is an eagle holding a 
garland of laurel leaves. It is a tasteful and ap- 
propriate tribute of affection from the general's 
sisters to their family. 

The quality of W. H. Lytle's personality was 
shown in all he said and did. In him, the boy 
was father to the man, and his days were ' ' linked 
each to each," with consistent achievements. 
The reputation which the public gave him repre- 
sented truly his character. There were "no 
tricks " in his '* plain and honest faith." That he 
was a man of energy, of integrity, of courage, of 
generosity, every act of his life illustrates. The 
martial impulse and habit controlled his destiny, 
molded his thinking, and colored his language. - 
Nevertheless, he loved peace and the quiet em- 
ployments of the scholar. Though he did not 
marry, his verses give ample testimony that he 
loved and honored woman, and had strong do- 
mestic instincts as well as ardent passions. In 
one of his gay madrigals written in the year be- 
fore his death, he sang : 



48 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

" But when the birds of morning sing, 
And all the wars are over, 
Our lances at jour feet we'll fling, 
And then we'll plaj the lover," 

The chivalric temper was shown throughout his 
history ; he was the Bayard of a democratic land. 
Masculine, vigorous, gallant, he had in him the 
supreme virtue, manliness. Manly he was, and 
also gentlemanly. General Banning relates that 
when General Lytle was preparing himself for 
his terrible last battle, he was observed to be in 
full uniform, and while puUing on his gloves said 
merrily, in reply to a question why he had taken 
such care with his toilet, *' I have tried to live like 
a gentleman, and I propose to die like one." 

General Lytle was a handsome man, of slight 
and graceful build, but well developed, erect and 
nervous. Like that of Wordsworth's Wanderer, 
"his whole figure breathed intelligence." His 
complexion was delicate, of a rosy softness al- 
most feminine, his eyes were gray, and his 
brown hair lay in rich, silken masses over a high 
forehead. The mouth was firm, indicative of 
resolute character. Altogether the face was ex- 
pressive of intellect and sentiment — an interesting 



LYTLE, THE POET. 49 

face, capable of assuming the stern frown of 
anger, and the sweetest smile of affection. 

To summarize the hero's life and character in 
a few lines, we borrow the words of the great 
Ben Jonson, who, in his ode to the memory of 
Sir H. Morison, exactly portrays William H. 
Lytle. We have only to substitute one name for 
the other. 

"Alas ! but Morison fell young; 

He never fell — thou fall'st, my tongue, 
He stood a soldier to the last right end, 
A perfect patriot and a noble friend; 

But most, a virtuous son, 

All offices were done 
By him so ample, full, and round, 
In v^^eight, in measure, number, sound, 
As, though his age imperfect might appear. 
His life was of humanity the sphere." 

Within the period of thirty-seven years, meas- 
uring the short life of William H. Lytle, he 
proved himself a good scholar, a successful law- 
yer, an influential politician and legislator, and a 
military commander of great courage, skill and 
popularity. He was also an orator of uncommon 
ability. To his triumphs achieved at the bar, on 



50 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

the floor of the House of Representatives, and 
in the army, must be added his accomplishments 
in literature, especially poetry. Mr. Leslie J. 
Perry, of Washington, D. C, in a discriminating 
article on the ''Warrior-Poet," ventures to say 
that "Notwithstanding his military fame already 
earned, notwithstanding the high encomiums 
passed upon him by his commander and brother 
officers, I judge that William Haines Lytle is al- 
ready better, and will be longer, remembered as 
the author of a little poem than as a soldier of 
the republic." Time alone can verify or disprove 
the correctness of this opinion ; but there seems 
no reason for not prophesying that Lytle's sword 
and pen will be remembered together, and that 
each will add sacredness to the other. It is no 
detraction from the meed of the most famous 
martial chieftain to magnify his literary victories. 
Renown in arms is doubly dignified in the hero 
illustrious in letters. For, after all is said, there 
is ineffable truth in the Hne of the Ohio poet who 
sings, 

" To be immortal thou must think a thought." 

So fugitive is the fame even of the most emi- 
nent and worthy, that their memory is apt to fade 



LYTLE, THE POET. 51 

fast as the flowers on the grave. Wars come and 
pass, but the conflict of life, like a perpetual 
Chickamauga, storms on around the generations, 
and yesterday's idol is forgotten to-day. There- 
fore it is no small or common distinction to gain 
by sword or pen, or both, such recognition among 
men as insures, not immortality on earth, but even 
fifty years of posthumous fame. More than thirty 
years have now elapsed since General Lytle 
passed away, and the interest in his poetry, far 
from abating, is now keener than ever before. 

There are poets of repute, of whose verse not 
so much as a single stanza finds lodgment in the 
popular memory; there are poems of unknown 
authorship of such haunting charm that every- 
body knows them by heart ; and now and then 
a rare soul, born gifted with the faculty divine, 
leaves his name embalmed in some inspired lyric 
which he makes. Such a favored being was 
William Haines Lytle. For he produced in a 
happy creative hour, one of those spontaneous 
songs, 

" Which alwaj'-s find us young, 
And always keep us so." 

The piece referred to is, of course, the ''An- 



52 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

tony and Cleopatra," a poem unrivaled in popu- 
larity by any thing yet written in the Ohio Valley, 
excepting Kinney's beautiful lyric, " Rain on the 
Roof." 

Bryant's "Library of Poetry and Song" is 
held responsible for having first put into circula- 
tion the absurd fiction that Lytle's famous poem 
was written while the author lay mortally wounded 
after the battle of Chickamauga. The true his- 
tory of the composition of the poem is this: 
"Antony and Cleopatra" was written at the Lytle 
homestead in the summer of 1858. The original 
manuscript — long in the possession of the poet's 
sister, Mrs. Josephine R. Foster — was dashed off in 
a glow of creative excitement by the author, who 
left it lying upon a writing table in his private 
room. There it was found by Wm. W. Fosdick, 
an intimate friend of Lytle, and himself a poet 
of more than local celebrity. ' ' Who wrote this, 
Lytle?" inquired Fosdick, after reading the 
poem. "Why, I did," answered Lytle; "How 
do you like it ? " Fosdick expressed admiration 
for the verses, and taking the liberty of a literary 
comrade, he carried a copy of the manuscript 



LYTLE A POET. 53 

away and gave it to the editor of the '* Cincinnati 
Commercial," with the explanatory note : '^ Eds. 
Com. — The following lines from our gifted and 
gallant townsman, General William H. Lytle, we 
think, constitute one of the most masterly lyrics 
which has ever adorned American poetry ; and 
we predict a popularity and perpetuity for it unsur- 
passed by any Western production. — W. W. F." 
The poem appeared in the ' ' Commercial " on 
July 29, 1858. 

The poem ''Antony and Cleopatra" is enjoyed 
not only by the uncritical reader, ''too simple to 
admire," but by exacting judges in literary art. 
For, though not a perfect piece of artistic work, 
it is of masterly power, and sustained excellence 
of style. The vigor never flags, the passionate 
swell of its music mounts higher and higher to 
the climax in the last line. No lapse into bathos, 
no straining for rhetorical effect impairs the dig- 
nity of the verse which moves on with a rapid 
and intense but sincere and solemn energy from 
the beginning to the close. It is hard to decide 
whether the dramatic or the lyric element pre- 
dominates, for, while the imperative song recalls 



54 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

action and the rush of war, subjective feeUng sur- 
charges every stanza — and, while remembering 
Rome and glory, Antony dies triumphing in the 
love of Egypt. 

The strong and beautiful poem, ''Antony and 
Cleopatra," is the author's masterpiece, certainly, 
but not by any means his only good poem. The 
reader will find among the pieces, now for the 
first time collected, several productions of such 
merit as to demonstrate the injustice of ranking 
Lytle among the ** one-poem poets," though some 
of these rank very high. The apostrophe to 
*' Popocatapetl" is a fine poetical conception, 
well wrought out and shows how carefully this 
poet was capable of finishing his work, which, 
it must be admitted, he too seldom took pains 
to elaborate. " Macdon aid's Drummer" is a 
brilliant descriptive ballad, full of pathos. The 
*' Brigand's Song," " Jaqueline," " Sailing on the 
Sea," and "The Volunteers," picture in the 
glowing colors of romance, the adventures of love 
and war, and the objective delights and darings 
of hot blooded youth. 

The martial strain best suited the genius of 



CRITICAL ESTIMATE. 55 

Lytle's muse. The "Antony and Cleopatra" is, 
essentially, a song of war. The greater number 
of the selections in the book treat of military and 
patriotic subjects, and the war poems are un- 
doubtedly superior to the rest. All along the 
pages are scattered epithets and phrases, exult- 
ing in '*the big war," " the glittering guard," 
"clanking spurs," "waving plumes," "free- 
man's sword," "bugle note," and "roll of 
drums." 

Next after the war songs, in number and in 
merit, come madrigals of love, of which "Fare- 
well," "Sweet May Moon," "Valentine," and 
" Two Years Ago," are good examples. The most 
artistic of the poems of the amatory class is the 
passionate "Anacreontic," especially the first two 
stanzas, which, in warm imagery and melodious 
singing quality, suggest the lost art of Marlowe and 
Ben Jonson. But the sentiment and also the style 
of Lytle's verse are not much influenced by the 
Elizabethan literature. They belong more to the 
romantic school of the first part of the nineteenth 
century. 

The influence of Byron, Moore, and Shelley is 



56 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

plainly discernible in the form, and to some ex- 
tent in the substance, of some of Ly tie's poetry- 
In the ''Haunted River," and one or two other 
pieces, echoes seem to come from the sounding 
gallery of Edgar A. Poe. 

Critics will notice, in the poems here collected, 
many hackneyed, sentimental expressions, faulty 
metaphors, and defects in meter and rhyme. 
But we must not forget that General Lytle had 
little leisure for literary study and composition, 
and made no claim to proficiency in the artistry 
of poetics ; nor were the poems ever subjected to 
the author's careful revision for pubUcation. He 
wrote for pleasure and from impulse, more ab- 
sorbed in the poetical contents of his work than 
in precise, technical forms. Those pieces marked 
by a date earlier than 1847, are to be judged as 
juvenile productions. 

One can not read the poems of W. H. Lytle 
without being impressed by a serious tone of mo- 
rality and religion which pervades them. They 
breathe, besides, pure patriotism, tender regard 
for kindred, and loyalty to friends. The poet, in 
his solitary hours, meditated deeply on human 



CRITICAL ESTIMATE. 57 

life and destiny, and read deep lessons in nature 
— in trees and streams, in mountains and stars. 
His moods were sometimes tinged with melan- 
choly, that infinite disappointment which comes 
to those who vainly seek on earth to realize the 
poet's visions and dreams. 



POEMS 



POEMS 



ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 

I am dying, Egypt, dying ! 

Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, 
And the dark Plutonian shadows 

Gather on the evening blast; 
Let thine arm, oh Queen, enfold me. 

Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear, 
Listen to the great heart secrets 

Thou, and thou alone, must hear. 

Though my scarred and veteran legions 

Bear their eagles high no more. 
And my wrecked and scattered galleys 

Strew dark Actium's fatal shore ; 
Though no glittering guards surround me, 

Prompt to do their master's will, 
I must perish like a Roman, 

Die the great Triumvir still. 

(61) 



62 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Let not Caesar's servile minions, 

Mock the lion thus laid low ; 
'T was no foeman's arm that felled him, 

'T was his own that struck the blow — 
His who, pillowed on thy bosom, 

Turned aside from glory's ray — 
His who, drunk with thy caresses, 

Madly threw a world away. 

Should the base plebeian rabble 

Dare assail my name at Rome, 
Where the noble spouse, Octavia, 

Weeps v/ithin her widowed home. 
Seek her; say the gods bear witness, — 

Altars, augurs, circling wings, — 
That her blood, with mine commingled, 

Yet shall mount the thrones of kings. 

And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian — 

Glorious sorceress of the Nile ! 
Light the path to Stygian horrors 

With the splendors of thy smile ; 
Give the Caesar crowns and arches, 

Let his brow the laurel twine, 
I can scorn the senate's triumphs. 

Triumphing in love like thine. 



ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 63 

I am dying, Egypt, dying ; 

Hark ! the insulting foeman's cry ; 
They are coming -, quick, my falchion ! 

Let me front them ere I die. 
Ah, no more amid the battle 

Shall my heart exulting swell ; 
Isis and Osiris guard thee, — 

Cleopatra, Rome, farewell ! 



858. 



\ 



64 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



POPOCATAPETL. 

Pale peak, afar 
Gilds thy white pinacle, a single star, 
While sharply on the deep blue sky thy snows 
In death-like calm repose. 

The nightingale 
Through ''Mira Flores" bowers repeats her tale. 
And every rose its perfumed censer swings 
With vesper offerings. 

But not for thee, 
Diademed king, this love-born minstrelsy, 
Nor yet the tropic gales that gently blow 
Through these blest vales below. 

Around thy form 
Hover the mid-air fiends, the lightning warm, 
Thunder, and by the driving hurricane. 
In wrecks thy pines are lain. 

Deep in thy heart 
Burn on vast fires, struggling to rend apart 
Their prison walls, and then in wrath be hurled 
Blazing upon the world. 



POPOCATAPETL. 65 

In vain conspire 
Against thy majesty tempest and fire ; 
The elemental wars of madness born, 

Serene, thou laugh'st to scorn. 

Calm art thou now 
As when the Aztec, on thine awful brow, 
Gazed on some eve Hke this from Chalco's shore, 
Where lives his name no more. 

And thou hast seen 
Glitter in dark defiles the ominous sheen 
Of lances, and hast heard the battle-cry 
Of Castile's chivalry. 

And yet again 
Hast seen strange banners steering o'er the main, 
When from his eyrie soared to conquest forth 
The Eagle of the North. 

Yet, at thy feet, 
While rolling on, the tides of empire beat, 
Thou art, oh mountain, on thy world-piled throne, 
Of all, unchanged alone. 



66 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Type of a power 
Supreme, thy solemn silence at this hour 
Speaks to the nations of the Almighty Word 
Which at thy birth was stirred. 

Prophet sublime ! 
Wide on the morning's wings will float the chime 
Of martial horns ; yet 'mid the din thy spell 
Shall sway me still — farewell! 



brigand's song. 67 



BRIGAND'S SONG. 

Through the Sierra's wild ravines 

An old grandee of Spain 
Is passing with his dark-eyed girls 

And all his gorgeous train ; 
The spoil is rich, the guard is weak, 

The way is rough and long. 
So bathe your Hps in foaming wine, 
And chant your parting song. 
Drink, brothers, drink, 

Drink, men, and away ; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We '11 bask before the day. 

The moon is in the azure skies. 

The stars are by her side. 
They glitter in her path of light 

Like maids around a bride ; 
Like night-birds let us sally forth 

Where booty may be won ; 
So whet the poignard's polished edge. 

And gird your carbines on. 



QS WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Arm, brothers, arm, 
Arm, men, and away ; 

Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We '11 bask before the day. 

All hail to-night ; for since the world 

Was made in times of old. 
The day has been for coward knaves, 

The night time for the bold ; 
Hark! to the mule-bells' distant chime, 

Our lady, grant a boon, 
That ere an hour the ring of steel 

May drown their jingling tune. 
Mount, brothers, mount, 

Mount, men, and away; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 

We'll bask before the day. 

To horse ! Hurra — with thundering press 

Over the plain we glide, 
Around the startled hamlet's edge 

And up the mountain side ; 
With waving plumes and clanking spurs. 

We sweep along like wind; 



brigand's song. 69 

Our beacon on the rugged cliff 
Is flaming far behind. 
Ride, brothers, ride, 

Ride, men, and away ; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We '11 bask before the day. 



70 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



SAILING ON THE SEA. 

" Where is my heart's dearest, 

Where can he be ? " 
" In his tall ship, Marguerite, 

Sailing on the sea; 
Sailing with a gallant crew. 

Winds a-blowing free " — 
*' Ah! he vowed he soon would come 

Home to wed with me ! " 

'* Should he never, Marguerite, 

Come back to thee. 
Thou canst find another love — 

I thy love will be ; 
Then far away to Indian isles 

Let us quickly flee. 
Pine no more for truant hearts 

Sailing on the sea." 

Flashed her eye in anger, 

Proudly turned she 
From the muffled cavalier 
Bending on his knee ; 



SAILING ON THE SEA. 71 

But away his cloak he flung, 

*' Marguerite ! " cried he— 
'T was her lover ! whom she thought 

Sailing on the sea. 



72 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



ANACREONTIC. 

Nay, frown not fairest, chide no more, 

Nor blame the blushing wine ; 
Its fiery kiss is innocent, 

When thrills the pulse with thine. 
So leave the goblet in my hand, 

But vail thy glances bright, 
Lest wine and beauty mingling 

Should wreck my soul to-night. 

Then, Ida, to the ancient rim 

In sculptured beauty rare, 
Bow down thy red-arched Hp and quaff 

The wine that conquers care ; 
Or breathe upon the shining cup 

Till that its perfume be 
Sweet as the scent of orange groves. 

Upon some tropic sea. 

And while thy fingers idly stray 

In dalliance o'er the lyre. 
Sing to me, love, some rare old song 

That gushed from heart of fire — 



ANACREONTIC. 73 

Song such as Grecian phalanx hymned 
When freedom's field was won, 

And Persia's glory with the light 
Faded at Marathon. 

Sing till the shouts of arm6d men 

Ring bravely out once more : 
Sing till again the ghost-white tents 

Shine on the moon-lit shore ; 
Bid from their melancholy graves 

The buried hopes to start, 
I knew ere many a storm had swept 

The dew-drops from my heart. 

Sing the deep memories of the past, 

My soul shall follow thee. 
Its boundless depths re-echoing 

Thy glorious minstrelsy ; 
And as the wild vibrations hang 

Enfettered on the air, 
I'll drink, thy white arms round me, love, 

The wine that conquers care. 



74 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



JACQUELINE.* 

Almond-eyed Jacqueline beckoned to me, 

As our troop rode home from mounting guard, 

And I saw Gil Perez's brow grow dark, 

While his face seemed longer by half a yard. 

What care I for the Spaniard's ire, 

His haughty lip and glance of fire ; 

What so fit for these Southern lords 

As the tempered edges of freemen's swords ? 

Say, shall an Alva's merciless bands 

Their hands in our noblest blood imbrue. 

And then with accursed foreign wiles. 
Our gentle Northern girls pursue ? 

Hail to him who for freedom strikes ! 

Up with your banners and down with the dykes ! 

Better be whelmed 'neath ocean waves 

Than live Hke cowards the lives of slaves. 

Haughty Gil Perez may then beware, 
For we love our blue-eyed Leyden girls. 

And would welcome the shock of Toledo blades 
Were the prize but a lock of their golden curls. 
* A ballad of the " Low Countries," a. d. 1567. 



JACQUELINE. 75 

Hope on, brothers, the day shall come 
With flaunting of banner and rolling of drum, 
When William the Silent shall rally his men 
And scourge these wolves to their homes again. 



76 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



A FRAGMENT. 

There in our cloisters green, spangled with flowers, 
We'll ponder o'er the page which God hath spread, 
And drink its wonders ; the gorgeous vestment 
Flaming with gold and crimson, nature flings 
Over the fainting day. The rose-lipped morn 
Night garlanded with stars, the universe 
Teeming with rich benevolence, shall teach 
Our hearts to mingle in a sweet communion. 
So warm and glowing that the hoary Earth 
In love's sweet light shall wear another youth 
And bloom as in the old primeval garden. 
The sands of life shall all be turned to gold. 
Our lives, unchilled by frost, or storm, or hail, 
Shall slowly wear away, till like ripe fruit 
We yield our spirit to the gleaner — Death. 



macdonald's drummer. 77 



MACDONALD'S DRUMMER.* 

A drummer-boy from fair Bayonne 

By love of glory lured, 
With bold Macdonald's stern array 

The pains of war endured. 
And now amid those dizzy heights 

That girt the Splugen dread, 
The silent columns struggled on, 

And he marched at their head. 

Then in those regions cold and dim, 

With endless winter cursed, 
The Alpine storm arose and scowled 

And forth in fury burst — 
Burst forth on the devoted ranks. 

Ambition's dauntless brood, 
That thus with sword and lance profaned 

Old Winter's solitude. 

" Down ! down ! upon your faces fall ; 
Cling to the guns ! for, lo, 

* See Headley's account of the passage of the Splu- 
gen, by Marshal Macdonald. 



78 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

The chamois on this slippery track 
Would dread yon gulf below !" 

So speed the word from front to rear, 
And veterans to the storm 

Bowed low, who ne'er in battle bowed 
To aught in foeman's form. 

But hark ! what horror swells the gale — 

Beware, oh sons of France ! 
Beware the avalanche whose home 

Is 'mid these mountain haunts. 
Yon distant thunder — 't is its voice ! 

The bravest held his breath, 
And silently a prayer put up 

To die a soldier's death. 

And near and nearer with a roar 

That loud and louder swelled, 
The avalanche down glaciers broad 

Its lightning pathway held ; 
And through the shivering ranks it crashed, 

And then with one vast stride 
Swept down the gulf, till far below 

Its muttering thunders died. 



macdonald's drummer. 79 

In vain Italians sunny plains 

And reeling vines invite ; 
Full many a soldier found his shroud 

'Mid Alpine snows that night; 
And he, his comrades' pride and boast, 

The lad from fair Bayonne ? 
The roll was called, no voice replied, — 

The drummer-boy was gone. 

Gone ! gone ! but hark, from the abyss, 

What sounds so faintly come. 
Amid the pauses of the storm ? 

It is — it is — the drum ! 
He lives, he beats for aid, he sounds 

The old familiar call, 
That to the battery's smoking throat 

Had brought his comrades all. 

Over the dizzy verge that eve 

With straining eyes they peered, 
And heard the rattling of the drum, 

In echoes strange and weird ; 
The notes would cease, and then again 

Would sound — again to fail, 
Until no more their fainting moan 

Came wafted on the gale 



80 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

And when red Wagram's fight was fought, 

And the big war was o'er, 
A dark-haired matron in Bayonne 

Stood watching by her door ; 
Stood watching, praying many an hour. 

Till hair and heart grew gray, 
For the bright-eyed boy who, 'mid the Alps, 

Was sleeping far away. 

And still, belated peasants tell 

How, near that Alpine height, 
They hear the drum-roll loud and clear 

On many a storm-vexed night. 
This story of the olden time 

With sad eyes they repeat, 
And whisper by whose ghostly hands 

The spirit-drum is beat 



THE VOLUNTEERS. 81 



THE VOLUNTEERS. 

The Volunteers ! the Volunteers ! 
I dream, as in the by-gone years, 
I hear again their stirring cheers, 

And see their banners shine. 
What time the yet unconquered North 
Pours to the wars her legions forth, 
For many a wrong to strike a blow 
With mailed hand at Mexico. 

The Volunteers! Ah, where are they 
Who bade the hostile surges stay, 
When the black forts of Monterey 
Frowned on their dauntless line ? 
When, undismayed amid the shock 
Of war, like Cerro Gordo's rock, 
They stood, or rushed more madly on 
Than tropic tempest o'er San Juan ? 

On Angostura's crowded field 
Their shattered columns scorned to yield, 
And wildly yet defiance pealed 
Their flashing batteries' throats ; ' 



82 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

And echoed then the rifle's crack, 
As deadly as when on the track 
Of flying foe, of yore, its voice 
Bade Orleans' dark-eyed girls rejoice. 

Blent with the roar of guns and bombs, 
How grandly from the dim past comes 
The roll of their victorious drums, 

Their bugle's joyous notes, 
When over Mexico's proud towers, 
And the fair valley's storied bowers. 
Fit recompense of toil and scars, 
In triumph waved their flag of stars. 

Ah, comrades, of your own tried troop, 
Whose honor ne'er to shame might stoop, 
Of lion heart and eagle swoop. 

But you alone remain ; 
On all the rest has fallen the hush 
Of death ; the men whose battle-rush 
Was wild as sun-loosed torrent's flow 
From Orizaba's crest of snow. 

The Volunteers ! the Volunteers ! 

God send us peace through all our years, 



THE VOLUNTEERS. 83 

But if the cloud of war appears, 

We '11 see them once again. 
From broad Ohio's peaceful side, 
From where the Maumee pours its tide, 
From storm-lashed Erie's wintry shore, 
Shall spring the Volunteers once more. 



1849. 



84 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



A MIDSUMMER-DAY'S DREAM. 

'• That was a crazj business, 
Trouble in everj' part, 
And many a dashing soldier 
Was quartered in thine heart." 

— Heinrich Heine. 

Through the mellowed lights of the beech- 
wood, 

A river hummed its tune, 
And I sat with Jeannette beside me 

In the still midsummer's noon. 

Jeannette is a haughty lady, 

But I was a throned king. 
Who had bidden the waves, my minstrels, 

To clash their cymbals and sing. 

The incense-laden breezes 

Shed fragrance in their flight, 
Through the stately aisles of my palace, 

Flooded with emerald light. 

And she of the rich low voice. 

With music in each soft tone, 
My heart and kingdom all were hers. 

And she was mine alone. 



A midsummer-day's dream. 85 

Through the cool green aisle of the beeches, 

The river hums its tune ; 
But no more with Jeannette beside rne 

I sit at the still mid-noon. 

From that memory-haunted forest, 

I rode both fast and far ; 
For Jeannette is a haughty lady, 

And I am a poor huzzar ! 



86 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



LINES TO MISS 



My foot 's in the stirrup, my hand 's on the rein, 
My proud steed is tossing his longflowing mane ; 
Yet, stay for a moment ! I '11 wave ere we part 
Another farewell to the girl of my heart. 

How blest was the evening I knelt by her side, 
And watched the Miami's deep willow-fringed 

tide, 
And dreamed a fair dream that love would flow 

ever, 
As smooth and as bright as the beautiful river. 

'' Oh, stay ! " said the rose to the wind, as it sped ; 
Alas ! in a moment the sighing wind fled. 
'' Oh, stay ! " said the lily, "nor leave me alone," 
Alas ! in a moment the bright wave was gone ! 

Thus, wave-like and wind-like, from those whom 

we love. 
The bidding of fate oft compels us to rove. 
But memory is laden with love-lighted hours. 
As winds, and the waves, with the fragrance of 

flowers. 



LINES TO MISS . 87 

My foot's in the stirrup, my hand's on the rein, 
My good steed is tossing his longflowing mane. 
One wave of her white hand, one tear from 

her eye — 
Press on, my fleet charger ! Sweet lady — good- 
bye! 



SS WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 

A legend has told us that Cupid and Death 

Were driven by stress of the weather, 
To an inn where they reveled in mischief and 
fun, 

And cracked a full bumper together. 
But Cupid, the rogue, with the arrows of Death, 

A bunch from his own quiver mingled; 
Thus oft an old swain is smitten by love, 

Whom Death for a victim has singled. 



THE SWEET MAY MOON. 89 



THE SWEET MAY MOON. 

The sweet May moon has left the night 

Pensive and sad ; 
Another eve, again her Hght 

Will shine and all be glad. 
But no more, love, will thy quenched beam 
Rekindle life's delicious dream. 

The sweet May moon has left the stars 

TwinkHng and bright, 
Fair sentinels amid the wars 

That vex the gentle night. 
But thou, oh ! love, hast veiled thy face, 
And left no starlight in thy place. 

The sweet May moon has left the wave 

To sing the while 
In some sea-hidden dreamland cave, 

She hides her mellow smile. 
But thou, oh ! love, hast left no voice 
To bid my saddened heart rejoice. 



90 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



IN CAMP. 



I gazed forth from my wintry tent 

Upon the star-gemmed firmament ; 

I heard the far-off sentry's tramp 

Around our mountain-girdled camp 

And saw the ghostly tents uprise 

Like specters 'neath the jeweled skies. 

And thus upon the snow-clad scene, 

So pure and spotless and serene, 

Where locked in sleep ten thousand lay 

Awaiting morn's returning ray, — 

I gazed, till to the sun the drums 

Rolled at the dawn, " He comes, he comes." 

1862. Bardstown, Ky. 



't is not the time. 91 



'TIS NOT THE TIME. 

'T is not the time for dalliance soft 

In gentle ladies' bowers, 
When treason flaunts her flag aloft 

And dares to tread on ours. 
Again the swords our fathers wore 

Must in the scabbards rattle, 
And we will sing the songs of yore, 

When marching forth to battle. 

From every pine-clad mountain side, 

From every dimpled valley, 
The bugles ringing far and wide, 

Invite the brave to rally. 
And far to East and far to West 

Our iron line advances, 
While freedom's flag, by freemen blessed. 

In glory o'er us dances. 

But when the birds of morning sing, 

And all the wars are over, 
Our lances at your feet we '11 fling, 

And then we '11 play the lover. 



92 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

And all will say 'tis time to wed, 
As gayly drums shall rattle. 

Before our conquering column's head, 
When marching home from battle. 

1862. 



WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS. 93 



WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS. 

When the long shadows on my path are lying, 
Will those I love be gathered at my side ; 

Clustered around my couch of pain, and trying 
To light the dark way, trod without a guide ? 

Shall it be mine, beyond the tossing billow, 
Neath foreign skies, to feel the approach of 
death, 

Will stranger hands smooth down my dying pillow, 
And watch with kindly heart my failing breath ? 

Or shall, perchance, the little stars be shining 
On some lone spot, where, far from home and 
friends. 

The way-worn pilgrim on the turf reclining. 
His hfe arid much of grief together ends ? 

Ah ! whereso'er the closing scene may find me, 
'Mid friends or foemen or in deserts lone. 

May there be some of those I leave behind me 
To shed a tear for me when I am gone. 



94 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Full well I know life's current, onward rushing, 
Sweeps hearts av/ay from spots where they 
would ding, 

And by life's shores fair flowers are ever blushing. 
That o'er the waves a Lethean fragrance fling. 

Yet when the thousand gales of morn are blowing, 
Or when the bright moon gilds the solemn sea, 

And the sweet stars their smiles on earth are 
throwing, 
In the wide world, will none remember me ? 



THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 95 



THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 

I have read of an old world 
In the merry days of eld, 
When the knight his armor wore, 
And the king gay tourneys held; 
When the gentle couched the lance, 
And the peasant bore the glave, 
And beauty sweetly smiled upon 
The loyal and the brave. 
Yet mourn not that this stout old world like a 

dream has passed away. 
That the clang of arms rings out no more, with 

stirring trumpets' fray, 
That the sturdy knight so bold and the prince so 

stern and proud 
Sleep well the long and silent sleep, each wrapped 
in his white shroud. 

There is festival to-night 
In the castle's lofty hall. 
And the fire logs gleam bright 
On the armor on the wall. 



96 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

*' Ho! " shouts the Baron, *' Minstrels, 
Let your harps sing merrilie. 
Ho ! fill the cups with foaming wine, 
And drink to Chivalrie." 
But far off on a frosty moor, beside his humble 

cot, 
The shivering serf his fagot rakes, nor murmurs 

at his lot. 
His voice is hushed, his lips are closed, but his 

eye lets fall a tear, 
When the night wind whispers tones of mirth to 
his unwilling ear. 

The lord rides forth to battle 
For our blessed Savior's shrine. 
He battles with the Paynim 
On the sands of Palestine. 
His deeds shine out in story. 
Of his arm so quick and strong, 
The harper chants his glory forth 
And breathes his name in song. 

But the serf he toils from morning, he toils till 
evening grey. 

With an aching brow and fainting heart he plods 
along his way, 



THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 97 

Grief, like a night-bird, gloomily, sits brooding on 

his soul, 
For him, no deeds of high emprise, no place on 

glory's scroll. 

Oh ! these merry tales of eld, 
Of the days that now are gone, 
How they flee before the truth 
Like spirits from the dawn. 
And poets sing of barons, 
Of war, and gay amour, 
But they never yet have caroled 
The sad song of the poor. 
Then mourn not that this stout old world like a 

dream has passed away. 
That the clang of arms rings out no more with 

stirring trumpet's fray. 
That the sturdy knight so bold, and the prince so 

stern and proud 
Sleep well, their long and silent sleep, each 
wrapped in his white shroud. 



08 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



LINES TO MISS E- 



The pulse of the year beat low, throbbed low, 

The winds went drearily sighing ; 
For wrapped in their shrouds of snow, white snow. 

The last of fall flowers were lying. 

I heard the north storm come down, come down. 

From its farthest icy dwelling, 
Through leafless forests all brown, all brown, 

The doom of the old year knelling. 

But when the light of thy smile, sweet smile. 
Was shed on the lone chance-comer. 

He dreamed a fair dream awhile, awhile. 
Of beauty and love and summer. 



THE HAUNTED RIVER. 



THE HAUNTED RIVER. 

Through a desolate dim region, 

Rolls a haunted river, 

Shapes and shades whose name is legion, 

Vex its tide forever. 

Round it loom steep promontories 

Fringed with morning's ruddy glories, 

In the olden day. 

Now, wan and gray ; 
And still this sad, mysterious river 
Goes sweeping, moaning on forever. 

Once amid enchanted islands. 
Where the May reposes, 
Starred with flower-crowned highlands. 
Drunk with breath of roses, 
Flashed its current in the sunlight. 
Sung its waters in the moonlight, 

Sung to Dian, 

And Orion; 
Now, this sad, mysterious river, 
Sweeps and moans along, forever. 



100 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



FADED FLOWERS. 

Woven of fire 
And light, these flowers be emblems of the soul, 
Whose wing plies ceaselessly to win its goal, 

Till time expire. 

Beauty at dawn 
Was theirs, drunk with rich odors, thieves of 

hues 
Stolen from Iris, reeling with draughts of dews ; 

At eve, how wan. 

Frail flowers ! poor heart ! 
Dew, beauty, fragrance linger till the noon, 
At eve, conspire to flee your presence soon, 

At night, depart. 

So reads the sign — 
May thy day linger long whose morn has spoken 
Hope to the heart, and peace as yet unbroken, — 

Longer than mine. 



TWO YEARS AGO. 101 



TWO YEARS AGO. 

The winds were still, the waters shone 
Beneath the May moon ; we alone 
Upon the rose-twined portico 
In silence stood, two years ago. 

Her blue-veined hand was clasped in mine. 
My pulse leapt as if lashed with wine. 
Love, on expression could not wreak 
Its passions, though I burned to speak. 

Forth, lava-like, at last the gush 

Of passionate speech broke on the hush, 

And wildly poured upon her ear 

The words she feared, yet loved, to hear. 

In maiden beauty how she stood. 
Fair type of saintly womanhood; 
Shine out, sweet stars, on charms divine 
And radiantly pure as thine. 

The prize was won, the prize is lost; — 
It may be weak, but, tempest tossed, 
I watch the dim receding shore 
From whence I drift forever more. 



102 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Tell her, oh ! night, if toward the North 
Her gentle eyes now wander forth 
To find my love's bright symbol there, 
Unquenchable amid despair. 

The winds are still, the water gleams 
Beneath the May moon; but the dreams 
I dreamed are gone, and now I know 
How blessed I was two years ago. 



A VALENTINE. 103 



A VALENTINE. 

A loiterer by the ocean's azure swell, 

Enraptured seized a gem born of the spray, 
Scarce half admired, a still more beauteous shell 

Hath prompted him to fling the first away. 
So oft before, the tides of time had cast 

Such charms across my path, I could have sworn 
Their witching radiance beauty unsurpassed; — 

Sprung from the bright sea-caves, where lurks 
the morn. 
Yet scarce had they my happiness undone, 
Ere some nev/ fancy my allegiance won. 
Till waved thy scepter and my heart remained 
A trembling prisoner by beauty's links unchained. 



104 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



LOVE AND TIME. 

There beat a young heart which had never known 
love, 
'T was as fresh as the bloom of the red summer 
rose, 
Till the merry God smiled from the regions above, 
And launched a bright arrow, that broke its 
repose. 

He launched a bright arrow, that broke its repose. 

When the fairy-Hke maiden was smiling in sleep ; 
The wound was a-bleeding, when just as love rose. 

Old Time chanced along on his pinions to sweep: 

Old Time chanced along on his pinions to sweep, 
And on the new wound that the arrow had made, 

As he passed without stopping (his crop was to 
reap). 
All softly and gently his finger he laid — 

All softly and gently his finger he laid, 

Then noiselessly glided away from the spot, 

And careless, and gladsome, as e'er was the maid, 
Love's dream, and the wound, and the arrow, 
forgot. 



LINES. 105 



LINES. 

SUGGESTED ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL T. L. HAMER. 

The brave who sleep in glory's shroud, 

How proud a fate is theirs ! 
A stricken nation mourning stands 

In grief beside their biers. 
Strewn o'er our mountains and our plains, 

Their bones in clusters lie, 
And stars smile on their humble graves 

From out the quiet sky. 

Some fell upon the highland's crest, 

And some sleep in the vale, 
Where violets in summer time 

Are nodding in the gale. 
The bones of some are whitening 

In stormy ocean's deep. 
On hill and plain and ocean bed 

So tranquilly they sleep. 

From city and from country side 

In pride of youth they came, 
The noble and the beautiful. 

To shield from harm or shame 



106 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

The rich old memories of the past, 

The glorious legacy 
From men who in the olden time 

Fought battles to be free. 

Around the effulgent flag they pressed, 

That, borne in many wars, 
Dishonor never visited 

To lurk amid its stars. 
To guard it with the old renown, 

Or dearly life to sell, 
They closed around its lustrous sheen, 

And, conquering, they fell. 

In time's dim cycles yet to come. 

The mother to her child 
. Will tell of the fierce battle won 

And the red carnage wild. 
And proud tradition shall hand down 

The glory of the brave, 
Long as above free hearts and hands 

Our star-lit flag shall wave. 



A SERENADE. 107 



A SERENADE. 

The air is soft and balmy, 

And the moon shines clear and bright, 

So throw your lattice wide, Ladie, 

And bless my eyes to-night. 

No smoothly polished lay I sing 

Like courtly chevalier, 

Yet let the soldier's tale of love 

Fall sweetly on your ear. 

I come from far countree, 

From the land of tropic sun. 

Where fame, and wreaths of laurel 

And glorious names are won ; 

Where the dews of night fall harmlessly 

On the saber's polished side 

As the dews of Time but strengthen 

My soul's love for its bride. 



108 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



SONG OF THE LIGHTNING. 

For a thousand years of time and more, 

From the depths of my misty lair, 

I issued forth to the frozen north, 

But as lord of the upper air. 

The sway o'er life and death was mine, 

Where 'er my footsteps trod, 

And in all Creation's broad expanse, 

I bowed to none but God. 

Where I slumbered, who might know ? 

Or was cradled, who could tell ? 

Fierce in my wrath, my blackened path 

Was scorched with flames of Hell. 

Yet I dwelt in each dew-wet moss-rose bud. 

In each trembling blade of grass. 

And in sportive glee I skimmed the sea 

And danced o'er the dark morass. 

I crouched in the granite quarry midst, 
I pierced the dull old earth, 
I fired the train that long had lain. 
And shouted with horrid mirth, 



SONG OF THE LIGHTNING. 109 

When fierce volcano flung its glare 
Far o'er the ocean's brine, 
And poured the scalding lava forth 
As flagon pours the wine. 

Earth's quickener, I slumbered oft, 

For centuries concealed, 

Like a great thought in stillness wrought 

To blaze when once revealed. 

Blasting or blessing, alike I strode 

An angel or a fiend, 

And on flaming wing rejoicing, 

Through the deep vault careened. 

But I shouted aloud from an inky shroud 
When with death and woe I came. 
And pealed a blast as I hurried past, 
That shook earth's rock-ribbed frame ; 
And suppliant forests bowed their crests 
As my black cohorts swept by, 
And the pealing tongue of the thunder flung 
Aloft my battle-cry. 

A good ship sailing on the sea, 
A pilgrim on the shore, 
A temple on a lonely hill 
Where worship bowed of yore ; 



110 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

A blinding flash, a thunder peal, 
That fills the welkin wide, — 
A hulk, a corse, a ruin, tell 
The sum of human pride. 

Ye know how the treacherous wit of men 

Has lured me with my love. 

How the wing that flamed so free is tamed, 

To the flight of the carrier dove 

But beware the lightning's tongue of fire. 

Ye cunning sons of men, 

When the woe begetter shall rend his fetter, 

And roam the skies again ! 



OMENS. Ill 



OMENS. 

" Here I am, Lord, for thou didst call me," 

— I Sam. iii, 

Last night in the mid-watch 
When all was still and drear, 
My name, I heard it called, — 
Oh, Christ, how dread to hear. 
Was it a dream? no sleep 
Had kissed my lids that night ; 
Helpless I lay and powerless. 
All trembling with affright. 

I Hstened, yet no sound 
Smote on my straining ear. 
Save the wild wind whirling 
The leaflets torn and sere. 
And in the sudden pause, 
As sped its coursers fleet, 
Solemnly in the gloom around 
I heard the night's pulse beat. 

Doubt not between our world 
And those where spirits dwell, 



112 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Shadowy links there be 
Whereof tongue can not tell. 
Heed not the haughty soul 
Whose wisdom never bends, 
At the still voice of Omens, 
That God in mercy lends. 

In the broad light of day. 

When gloom broods o'er the deep. 

His arm is still to shield us, 

His love can never sleep. 

His mercy walks abroad at noon, 

And on the midnight air ; 

So thought I, and my troubled soul 

Found rest again in prayer. 



LINES ON MY THIRTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY, 113 



LINES ON MY THIRTY-SIXTH BIRTH- 
DAY. 

Swift through the hurricane of life 

My shattered bark drives on, 
The pilot's hand has left the helm, 

Rudder and mast are gone. 
I hear the roar of angry seas, 

And see the breakers rise. 
Revealed amid the sullen gloom 

By lightning-lighted skies. 

'T is done ! To hope I bid farewell, 

Love and her lights may flee, 
And youth's entrancing glamour fades 

From hope to memory. 
Far o'er the Atlantic's waves to-night 

My true love wends her way, 
And many a tear is mingled with 

The ocean's briny spray. 

Gird on my trusty blade once more, 
And saddle my sinewy steed ; 

Dash down the gloomy page to earth, 
Whose lore I would not read. 



114 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Weave fast your woof, weird sisters three ! 

Again among the brave, 
For freedom and for victory. 

Or for a soldier's grave ! 

1862. 



LINES TO MY SISTERS. 115 



LINES TO MY SISTERS. 

Dear sisters, mid the toil and strife 

That vex young manhood's troubled life, 

My heart to you will fondly stray. 

Though absent now and far away. 

I miss your words of hope and cheer, 

That nerved my soul when all was drear, 

The sunny smiles and soothing ways 

So prized from earliest boyhood's days. 

In vain for me the applause of men. 

The laurel won by sword or pen, 

But for the hope, so dear and sweet. 

To lay my trophies at your feet. 

And though the world should prove unkind, 

A solace in your smiles I '11 find. 

The links that link us three together 

Defy this life's most stormy weather, 

And in bright worlds we know not of 

Will still enclasp our sacred love. 

Bloom, flowers! where'er my sisters move; 

Shine on them, stars ! with beams of love ; 



116 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Your vigils, holy angels, keep 
That no dark dream affright their sleep ; 
And sunny garlands, fortune, twine 
To deck their brows, sweet sisters mine. 



'tis only once we love. 117 



'TIS ONLY ONCE WE LOVE. 

The heart that throbbed at Glory's voice 

And followed in her train, 
Although in sloth it slumbers long, 

May wake to life again. 
But ah ! when once true love has bloomed. 

As many a heart can prove. 
The fragrance wasted ne'er returns — 

'Tis only once we love. 

I tread the sunny paths of life, 

'Mid beauty's proud array, 
But the spell that lent a charm to all 

Has mist-like passed away. 
No more the thrill from mingled pulse 

The eloquent low sigh, 
Nor the unbidden tear of joy 

That trembled in the eye. 

Yet ofttimes in my early dreams, 

From some enchanted isle, 
Comes one with her soft, winning voice 

And the old gladsome smile, 



118 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

And hand in hand we wander on 
Through violet-bordered glades, 

Till with the night's starred legions bright 
The joyous vision fades. 

Ah ! sadly pass the hours away 

When that sweet light departs, 
Which fair as dawn on Eden rose 

With rapture on our hearts. 
And many a blossom fair is culled 

As through the world we rove ; 
But the fairest is the rarest flower. 

'Tis only once we love. 



THE SIEGE OF CHAPULTEPEC. 119 



THE SIEGE OF CHAPULTEPEC. 

Wide o'er the valley the pennons are fluttering, 
War's sullen story the deep guns are muttering, 
Forward ! blue-jackets, in good steady order, 
Strike for the fame of your good northern border ; 
Forever shall history tell of the bloody check 
Waiting the foe at the siege of Chapultepec. 

Let the proud deeds of your fathers inspire ye 

still, 
Think ye of Monmouth, and Princeton, and 

Bunker Hill, 
Come from your hallowed graves, famous in story, 
Shades of our heroes, and lead us to glory. 
Side by side, son and father with hoary head 
Struggle for triumph, or death on a gory bed. 

Hark ! to the charge ! the war-hail is pattering, 
The foe through our ranks red rain is scattering ; 
Huzza ! forward ! no halting or flagging till 
Proudly the red stripes float o'er yon rocky hill. 
Northern and Southerner, let your feuds smolder ; 
Charge! for our banner's fame, shoulder to 
shoulder ! 



120 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Flash the fort guns, and thunders their stunning 

swell 
Far o'er the valley to white Popocatapetl, 
Death revels high in the midst of the bloody sport, 
Bursting in flame from each black-throated cas- 
tle-port, 
Press on the line with keen sabers dripping wet, 
Cheer, as ye smite with the death-dealing bayonet ! 

Our bold Northern eagle, king of the firmament, 
Shares with no rival the skies of the continent. 
Yields the fierce foeman; down let his flag be 

hurled. 
Shout, as our own from the turret is wide un- 
furled ! 
Shout ! for long shall Mexico mourn the wreck 
Of her proud state at the siege of Chapultepec. 

1848. 



THE soldier's DEATH. 121 



THE SOLDIER'S DEATH.* 

" Earlj in the morning we found him lying cold and 
stiff on the scene of his former exploits." 

The night had come and the stars were bright, 
And the moon shone o'er the battlefield, 
When the unjust cause of a tryant's might 
Was crushed by the weight of freedom's shield. 

Years passed by and a people great 
Had arisen in a mighty land, 
And peace and hope and might they date 
From a contest gained by a gallant band. 

Upon the waste so stained with blood, 

Beside a great and rushing stream, 

A worn and weary soldier stood, 

Like a phantom raised in a feverish dream. 

As the winds of winter by him course, 
And curl the foam on the billow's crest. 
Naught can oppose their onward force, 
They carry a groan from the soldier's breast. 

* Written at the age of fourteen. 



122 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

The scenes of the past before him glow, 
While memory's rays upon them beam, 
And the waste — before — is crowded now 
And polished arms before him gleam. 

Through the vault of heaven the bugles call, 
The eager troops to the conflict pour, 
Like grass before the scythe they fall, 
Mowed down — as the cannons loudly roar. 

As the moon beams on their armor dance, 
Springing like beast from out his lair, 
Each grasping close his deadly lance, 
The shadowy horsemen fast appear. 

As in their crowded ranks they stream, 
Now loudly swells the battle cry. 
Floating in air their banners gleam, 
With clashing swords is the tumult high. 

See the old man stands with kindling eyes, 
And lifting high his hoary head. 
His upraised arm he scarcely stays, — 
'T is but the battle of the dead. 

The night has passed — the morn has come, 
With rosy hue the east is flushed. 



THE soldier's DEATH. 123 

And on that spot seemed nature dumb, 
So tranquil was the scene and hushed. 

When mortals by the wayside passed, 
The soldier's last deep breath had flown. 
With naught to cheer save the midnight blast, 
On the battlefield had he died — alone. 

1840. 



124 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



THE FARMER. 

From golden morn till dewy eve, 

When the sky gleams bright and red, 
With many a strong and sturdy stroke, 

I labor for my bread. 
No sickly fits nor ills I dread, 

My chest is deep and broad. 
And though I work the live-long day, 

I rise and thank my God. 

No lily hue is on my brow. 

No rings on my hard hand, 
I wield the axe, I drive the plow ; 

Or when war shrouds the land, 
I seize my father's well-tried blade, 

And that for Freedom's sod 
It is my glorious right to bleed, 

I rise and thank my God. 

And when my daily task is o'er, 

And the sun is sinking low, 
As faint with work and honest toil, 

To my humble roof I go, — 



THE FARMER. 125 

I see the perfumed city beau 

With his ebony walking rod, 
And that I 'm not a thing like him, 

I rise and thank my God. 

The widow's prayer upon mine ear, 

Unheeded never fell, 
I ne'er beheld the orphan's tear, 

But my own heart's fount would swell. 
I never Heaven for gold would sell. 

Nor for wealth would stoop to fraud, 
A poor but yet an honest man, 

I rise and thank my God. 

And when the good sun floods with light 

This land of liberty, 
And spreads around my happy sight. 

As in prayer I bend the knee, 
That I am strong and bold and free, 

In the land my fathers trod, 
With quivering lip and outstretched arms, 

I rise and thank my God. 



1843. 



126 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE, 



HUNTING SONG, 

Arouse ! Hunters ! Arouse ! 

Brightly breaks the morn, 
Freshly blows the morning breeze, 

And cheerily winds the horn. 
The deer his covert leaving, 

Lingers in the vale, 
And over the lofty mountain-top 

The crimson glories sail. 

Awake ! Hunters ! Awake ! 

Nature from her sleep 
In summer's arms comes forth 

To bid the glad pulse leap. 
The sorrowing night has vanished, 

Her dreary watching done, 
Her tear-drops hung on trembling leaves 

Are glittering in the sun. 

To horse ! Hunters ! To horse ! 

Bounds each noble steed 
Like a bold spirit wearying 

From bondage to be freed. 



HUNTING SONG. 127 

Give rein ! give rein ; with ringing shout 

The soaring eagle scare, 
And follow with echoing cry the stag, 

Deep in his forest lair. 



1846. 



128 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



SONG OF THE RAGGED ATTORNEY. 

" Lidentum dicere verum quid betat?'' — Horace. 
My coat has long since lost its gloss, 

My purse of gold is bare, 
I stride no horses fleet and fine, 

Nor dine on dainties rare. 
Yet ho ! my cheek is full and red, 

My eye is clear and bright, 
And I laugh at rags, and want and care, 

With a jolly strong heart and light. 

Ha ! ha ! Sir Spider, on the wall. 

How lank you look and poor, 
We' ve neither webbed a single fly 

For a good twelve months or more. 
Yet ho ! who cares ? we both live high — 

As high as we can get — 
And we season the good things that we say 

With the salt of our attic wit. 

The spider has fled into his web. 
The mouse, he scampers away. 

And the dusty office seems chill and drear, 
With the shadows long and grey. 



SONG OF THE RAGGED ATTORNEY. 129 

What ho, old moth ! art w.orking still ? 

The prince of scholars you be 
Toiling away in your wormy cell 

Like a monk right steadily. 

And now to fancy's mystic eye, 

The mournful twilight teems 
With solemn shapes and dusky forms 

From the dark land of dreams. 
What ho ! start not, I know them well, 

Brave doctors of the law — 
Each one in place — quick for the dance 

My quivering bow I draw. 

Ha ! ha ! these figures grave and dusk, 

See how they wheel and spin, 
Footing it up and shuffling down 

To the merry violin. 
Oh ! ho ! 't is a farcical sight to see — 

Lord Eldon, you alone. 
Now forward Coke, and Matthew Hale, 

With jolly old Blackstone. 

The soldier loves the flash of steel, 

The sailor loves the sea. 
The forester carols a merry tune 

In praise of the greenwood tree ; 



130 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Yet ho ! for law, with scales so bright, 
And the sword to shield from harm, 

And her ragged sons who laugh at care, 
With jolly light hearts and strong. 

1845. 



THE FAREWELL. 



THE FAREWELL. 



131 



My bark is clearing a path of light 

Over the waters fair, 
In whose crystal depths the Queen of Night 

Is bathing her golding hair. 
Silence and beauty are throned above, 

In the vaults of the summer sky, 
And the river murmurs a tale of love 

To the stars as it ripples by. 

Tell, fair Moon, if thy golden eye 

My lady-love can discover, 
Does she gaze on thine orb in sympathy 

And muse on her distant lover ? 
Or if through her casement thou shinest now, 

On her pride in sleep serene, 
Strew lightly. Moon, on her peerless brow 

The snow of thy silver sheen. 

Night wind, droop thy waving wings, 

I pray thee cease to rove, 
Till I burden thy heedless wanderings 

With the precious freight of love. 



132 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Then plume thy scented wing once more, 
Thy way by the moonHght steer, 

And the burning tide of my bosom pour 
By stealth in my lady's ear. 

Breathe to her, wind, farewell, for one 

Over whose days she threw 
A ray of gladness such as shone 

When yet the world was new. 
Say that afar his heart will tell 

Of those bright hours cherished long, 
As the crimson lip of the lone sea-shell 

Murmurs its ocean song. 

1846. 



Delivered in Camp at Bridgeport, Alabama, 

August 9, 1863, 
ON RECEIVING A JEWELED MALTESE CROSS 

FROM THE OFFICERS OF 

THE TENTH OHIO REGIMENT. 



The presentation speech, by Colonel Wm. W. 
Ward, of Ohio, concluded in these words : 

"We, now, your old comrades in arms, wit- 
nesses of your conspicuous gallantry in the field ; 
witnesses, also, of your skill in council, and thor- 
oughly conversant with your accurate knowledge 
of military duty — present to * our Colonel' the 
cross I have placed. General, upon your breast, 
knowing as we all do — and also anxious to tell 
your dear brothers in arms — gentlemen of whose 
gallanty I would have been assured, even if you 
had not told me of it — that our Colonel's cross 
will be like the white plume of the hero of Ivry 

— seek it where the fight is thickest." 

(133) 



134 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



GENERAL LYTLE'S SPEECH. 

Colonely and Gentletnen of the Tenth Ohio In- 
fantry — My old Friends and Comrades : — I can not 
tell you how deeply I am touched by this beauti- 
ful testimonial. I am very glad to learn that, al- 
though you have not for a long time been under 
my command, you have not forgotten me ; and I 
feel it also an especial honor that you have taken 
the trouble to visit me in our camp in the moun- 
tains to make me this present in the midst of a 
campaign, and, I fear, at great personal inconven- 
ience. In all sincerity I can say to you that never 
did the heart of a soldier of the Old Guard beat 
higher — no, not even when at the hands of the 
*' Little Corporal" himself he received the Cross 
of the Legion — than does mine to-day. Come 
what may to me to-morrow or in days beyond ; 
come what may, as under the leadership of our 
gallant chief, the invincible Rosecrans, this Army 
of the Cumberland follows his happy star through 
the eventful drama of the war, at least for me 



SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 135 

this token, from the cherished comrades with 
whom I entered the service, is secure. 

So long as, in God's providence, my life is 
spared, I shall look on it, gentlemen, and be re- 
minded of many a stirring incident, both in your 
experience and mine. It will recall the pale and 
troubled faces with which men stood in the black 
shadows that strove before civil war, and the 
horror that thrilled our breasts when the rebellion 
first proclaimed itself by overt acts ; the revered and 
holy flag of the nation was fired on by parricidal 
hands at Charleston. It will bring back to me the 
fiery and tumultuous gatherings of armed men that 
rallied to defend the flag. I will remember, as I 
gaze on it, a thousand incidents connected with our 
camps at Harrison and Dennison. It will remind 
me of the long and weary marches when our 
solitary column threaded the mountain defiles of 
West Virginia, of the memorable 8th of October 
at Carnifex Ferry, when your ranks, plowed by 
shot and shell, stood fast and firm until the enemy 
fell back across the Gauley under cover of the 
night, the movement masked by darkness and the 
roar of the mountain stream. It will remind me 
of the brave Milroy; of Fitzgibbon, the color- 



136 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

bearer ; of Kavanaugh and Kennedy, of many a 
hero soldier whose name we will keep green in 
memory; of that red autumnal day, at Chaplin 
Hills, when Jackson, Terrill, Jones and Campbell 
fell, their names crowned with the deathless laurel, 
when, in your own brigade, the chivalry of Ohio 
and Kentucky, and Indiana and Michigan, added 
a new and glorious leaf to the somber annals of 
the Dark and Bloody Ground. 

I will be reminded too, as I gaze upon its em- 
erald and its shamrock, the significant emblems 
with which your taste and the craft of the artisan 
have enriched it, of that gallant and beautiful 
island of the sea, the devotion of whose children 
to my country and their country, has been so 
gloriously manifested in this hour of her bitterest 
travail. 

String with fresh cords the Irish harp, worn 
with recounting the triumphs of your race, to 
breathe in new and yet loftier strains of minstrelsy 
their deeds in arms and deeds of noble daring 
during this rebellion. Let the pale cheek of Erin, 
as she watches across the deep, crimson with ex- 
ultation at the names of Corcoran and Meagher, 
and the record of your own gallant regiment, the 



SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 137 

armed witness before this, your generation, to the 
undying fame of Richard Montgomery. 

I will not deny, gentlemen, that when on re- 
porting to this department, I found you were to 
be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
army associations were broken up. My present 
command will pardon me for saying this, I know, 
for, in my judgment, no man who forgets his old 
friends deserves to make new ones. But long 
since I have felt perfectly at home, and I can not 
let this the first occasion that has presented 
itself pass by without expressing to the officers 
and men of the First Brigade my heartfelt 
thanks for the warm and generous welcome they 
have awarded to a stranger. Gentlemen of the 
Tenth Ohio, you see around you your brethren 
in arms, the men of Sheridan's division; men 
from the North-west, from the clans of the peo- 
ple, who pitch their tents on the prairies of Illi- 
nois and Michigan and Wisconsin, and by the 
shores of the great lakes,— veterans of Pea Ridge, 
Perryville, and Stone River. When the next 
fight comes on, may they and the Old Tenth 
stand shoulder to shoulder, and see by whom, in 



138 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

glorious emulation, our battle-flags into the ranks 
of the enemy can be flung the farthest and fol- 
lowed the closest. Nor will it diminish your in- 
terest in this brigade to tell you it was once com- 
manded by the pure and heroic Sill — Sill, whom 
you knew so well last year, during your campaign 
in Northern Alabama. Than his, the war has de- 
veloped no nobler spirit. The Military Academy 
at West Point might point to his name alone, and 
stand fast in the affections of the people. Ohio 
in no braver or better blood has sealed her de- 
votion to the Union. 

" Him shall no sunshine from the field of azure, 
No drum beat from the wall — 
No morning gun, from the black fort's embrasure, 
Awaken with its call," 

But his name will be embalmed in the praise 
of states, and this, his old brigade, at Chatta- 
nooga, or Atlanta, or in Eastern Tennessee, or 
wherever its proud banners flaunt the sky, will 
cherish his memory and avenge his fall. 

But, gentlemen, I know your time is limited, 
and that I must not detain you too long. Rest 
assured that I shall follow the military career of 



SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 139 

each and all of you with the deepest solicitude. 
The third year of the war is upon us. How fierce 
has been the struggle, our vast national debt and 
shattered ranks bear witness. Whether the end 
is near or not, I can not tell. The past months 
will be forever memorable for the splendid 
triumphs of our arms, and to the eyes of hope 
the sky is flushed with faint light and the morning 
seems near at hand. But come victory or come 
defeat, come triumph or come disaster, this I 
know, that against rebels in the field or traitors at 
home, despite the plots of weak-kneed and cow- 
ardly politicians of the North and the machina- 
tions of foreign despots and aristocrats, the scarred 
and bronzed veterans of the warlike West, the 
men on whose banners are inscribed Mill Springs 
and Donelson, Pea Ridge and Vicksburg, Shiloh, 
Carnifex and Stone River, will make no terms, 
accept no truce, indorse no treaty, until the mili- 
tary power of the rebellion is crushed forever, and 
the supremacy of the National Government ac- 
knowledged from the Potomac to the Rio Grande. 
Am I told that Union restored by force of arms 
is not worth having ? Am I told that if the states 
now in revolt are whipped in fair fight — beaten 



140 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

and humiliated — they will be unworthy and de- 
graded members of the Union ? We must have 
peace first, says a certain school of politicians, 
and then, if we can, we will argue the South into 
a reconstruction. In other words, these gentle- 
men would have the Government and the loyal 
masses of the country drain to the dregs the bitter 
cup which they would dash from the hands of 
traitors and rebels. The territory you have oc- 
cupied is to be abandoned, the public property, 
the dock-yards, and fortresses you have re- 
captured after two years of war, are to be sur- 
rendered, the victorious armies of the Mississippi, 
the Cumberland, and the Potomac, followed by 
the jeers and scoffs of the enemy, are to sneak, 
with arms reversed and flags trailed in the dust, 
across the Northern border ; and your Government 
— the Government of Washington, and Jefferson, 
and Jackson — is to cower, dishonored and dis- 
graced, a byword and hissing among the nations. If 
the rebel armies (I will not say the rebel States, for 
it is not against the States, nor their constitutional 
rights, we wage war), if the rebel armies, and the 
oligarchs who control them, have their pride 
broken, and their prestige humbled, let them 



SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 141 

blame themselves. They have sown the wind, 
let them reap the whirlwind, till the bloody prob- 
lem is finally worked out ; eye to eye, foot to foot, 
sword to sword, bayonet to bayonet; if need be, 
for ten years longer, with iron hearts, and iron 
fleets, and iron hail, this generation of loyal men 
will, by God's grace, endure its heavy cross, and 
until the broad daylight of peace and order and 
victory shall come, will stand to arms. 

And then for you, soldiers — soldiers, but free- 
men and armed citizens of the Republic — it will 
be for you to remember the Roman saying, Vel 
pace, vel bello, clarum fieri licet " or, as old Milton 
has paraphrased it, ** Peace has her victories, no 
less renowned than war." It will be for you to 
look to it that those arbitrary war measures, justi- 
fied by the awful presence of a rebellion, whose 
like the world never saw before ; justified by the 
maxim that '*the safety of the Republic is the su- 
preme law," die, with the necessities which gave 
them birth. It will be for you to see that the 
powers of the Government are restricted to their 
lawful and appropriate channels ; that each State 
has its full and perfect rights under the constitu- 
tion, awarded to it ; and, finally, through the in^ 



142 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

strumentality of the ballot box, it will be for you to 
put the seal of eternal political damnation on those 
subtle and designing demagogues, whose disaffec- 
tion and disloyalty to the country have already 
prolonged the war, and to-day, more than all 
other agencies, feed the unholy fires of treason, 
riot and insurrection. Mark the prediction, that, 
when the war is over, it will be to the men of 
this human army, more than to any others, that 
the people of the Southern States will look for a 
wise, generous, patriotic conservatism. 

They will trust you because of your unflinch- 
ing and unwavering loyalty to your great cause ; 
they will respect you as one brave man, even 
though overcome, respects another with whom 
he has measured swords. The government of 
Jefferson Davis may flatter the political apostates 
of the North for military purposes, but I much 
mistake the character of Southern men, if, while 
they hug the treason, they do not scorn the trai- 
tor. 

It will be for you, above all others, when this 
rebellion has spent its strength, to recall to the 
minds of the people, the admonition : 



SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 143 

" It is well to have a giant's strength, 

But, oh, 't is tyranny to use it like a giant;" 

To heal up the sores and scars, and cover up the 
bloody foot-prints that war will leave; to bury 
in oblivion all animosities against your former 
foe ; and chivalrous as you are brave, standing on 
forever stricken fields, memorable in history, side 
by side with the Virginian, the Mississippian, 
or Alabambian, to carve on bronze or marble 
the glowing epitaph that tells us of Southern as 
well as Northern valor . 

That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis- 
dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
be for all of us here to-day to listen to the chants 
that greet the victor, nor to hear the brazen bells 
ring out the new nuptials of the States. But those 
who do survive can tell, at least, to the people, 
how their old comrades, whether in the skirmish 
or the charge, before the rifle-pit or the redan, 
died with their harness on, in the great war for 
Union and Liberty. 



144 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 



CO. K. 

[Poem found in a pocket-book taken from General 
Lytle's pocket when he lay dead on the battlefield of 
Chickamauga. The authorship is not known.] 

There's a cap in the closet, 

Old, tattered, and blue, 
Of very slight value. 

It may be, to you ; 
But a crov/n, jewel-studded, 

Could not buy it to-day. 
With its letters of honor. 

Brave ''Co. K." 

The head that it sheltered 

Needs shelter no more ! 
Dead heroes make holy 

The trifles they wore ; 
So, like chaplet of honor. 

Of laurel and bay, 
Seems the cap of the soldier. 

Marked "Co. K." 



''CO. K." 145 

Bright eyes have looked calmly 

Its visor beneath 
O'er the work of the Reaper, 

Grim Harvester, Death ! 
Let the muster-roll, meager, 

So mournfully say. 
How foremost in danger 

Went ''Co. K." 

Whose footsteps unbroken 

Came up to the town, 
Where rampart and bastion 

Looked threat'ningly down ! 
Who, closing up breaches. 

Still kept on their way, 
Till guns, downward pointed, 

Faced "Co. K?" 

Who faltered, or shivered ? 

Who shunned battle-stroke ? 
Whose fire was uncertain ? 

Whose battle line broke ? 
Go, ask it of History, 

Years from to-day. 
And the record shall tell you, 

Not "Co. K." 



146 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 

Though my darHng is sleeping 

To-day with the dead, 
And daisies and clover 

Bloom over his head, 
I smile through my tears 

As I lay it away — 
That battle-worn cap, 

Lettered " Co. K/' 



LAST MARCHING ORDER. 147 



LAST MARCHING ORDER. 

Below is printed, from the original, one of the last 
orders received bj Brigadier-General Lytle: 

Head Quarters, 3D Div,, 2oth A. C. 

Trenton, Georgia, Sept. 6, 1863. 
Orders, — 

This Division will resume the march this morning in 
the following order: 

1. 2d Brigade, Col. B, Laiboldt. 

2. 3d " " L. P. Bradley. 

3. 1st " Genl. W. H. Ljtle. 

4. Ammunition Train. 

5. Ambulance " 

6. Brigade trains in the order of their Brigades. 

7. Division Supply Train. 

Genl. Ljtle will detail one regiment of his command 
to act as rear guard. 

Col. Bradley will move his Brigade at 12 o'c, to be 
followed immediately by the Brigade of Genl. Lytle. 

By command of Maj.-Genl. Sheridan. 

Geo. Lee, Captain and A. A. G. 
To Brig. -Genl. Lytle, Command'g ist Brigade. 



LYTLE'S LAST ORDER TO HIS BRIGADE. 

This memorial collection may close appropriately 
with the last written words of General Lytle, hastily 
penciled on the back of the foregoing order, and 2i fac- 
simile of which occupies these final pages. The hu- 
mane and beautiful sentences here reproduced, consti- 
tute the last order of a loved and honored commander 
to his heroic followers. 



148 GENERAL LYTLE'S LAST WRITTEN ORDER, 






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GENERAL LYTLE'S LAST WRITTEN ORDER. 149 










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